


Dancing in your Shadow - A drabble/one shot collection

by Adri_K



Category: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, kreia; mira; brianna; t3; mical and bao-dur are mentioned, or they actually show up briefly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 23,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23545372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adri_K/pseuds/Adri_K
Summary: This is an archive of the prompted fics I've been posting on tumblr featuring Atton Rand and my Exile, Illa, for the last two and a half-ish years. This is mostly just a back-up for readers who find ao3's formatting easier to read than tumblr's.Anyway, expect a bunch of fluffy and/or angsty scenes here, most of the time it's both.Check the chapter notes for potential warnings.
Relationships: Female Jedi Exile/Atton "Jaq" Rand, The Jedi Exile/Atton "Jaq" Rand
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

The Ebon Hawk felt strangely empty with Kreia gone. Illa knelt at the spot where her mentor used to meditate and forced her mind to find a connection. She thought that maybe, just maybe, she could sense some hints at Kreia’s plans, some understanding of why she did what she did. Maybe then the Exile could also find the courage to look past her lies and hope for her redemption.

Illa had to admit: hope itself became a painful thing to feel. For the past few months the idea of healing was so certain, the goal of making peace and finding a new family felt so close – and then it all turned out to be a lie. Illa couldn’t blame the Jedi Council or Kreia, she only blamed herself for foolishly thinking she could be anything other than an exile.

The sound of footsteps broke the Exile’s line of thought. She turned around to see Atton approaching. He still looked disoriented from being knocked unconscious earlier despite his efforts to hide it. 

‘Shouldn’t you be in the infirmary?’ Illa asked as she stepped to the pilot and offered to support him.

‘Mical said it’s nothing serious. I’ll just have to rest it out,’ Atton sat on the nearest bed. ‘Don’t worry, I’m fine. But I get the feeling you have more than enough on your mind as it is.’

Illa remembered the Council’s claim about her transmitting her feelings to the people around her. The memory made her heart sink deeper in her chest.

‘I bet you do,’ she said and sat down beside Atton. He didn’t say a word, he merely tried to read her emotions from her face.

‘So – was the meeting with the Council everything you dreamed of?’ Atton asked eventually. ‘I mean, before Kreia decided to stab us-‘

‘No,’ Illa interrupted him. She needed a few more moments to find the right words to explain what the Council told her without hurting him.

Atton scoffed before the Exile could say anything. ‘Typical,’ he shook his head disapprovingly. For a second Illa saw anger in his eyes. ‘Look, I… I don’t really care what they said. They were wrong.’ Before Illa could reply, Atton placed his hand on hers and added with familiar cockiness, ‘I’ll go get my cards. And then we’re gonna play until you feel better.’

The Exile let out a short and bitter laugh. ‘Really? You think pazaak would help?’

‘Uh… no. But you’re gonna pretend it does just to make me feel better about myself. At least that’s what I hope you’ll do. That would be good enough for now.’

‘You’re not making any sense,’ Illa frowned, confused.

‘It does make sense. Trust me, if you lie to yourself about something long enough, you… you might start believing it,’ Atton said jokingly and yet, the Exile thought his words sounded a lot like a confession.

‘That doesn’t sound healthy,’ she voiced her concern.

‘I know,’ there was a hint of impatience in Atton’s tone, ‘but that’s all I’ve got right now. And fake happiness beats genuine misery any day.’

Illa had to admit: there was some wisdom behind the pilot’s words. She expressed her gratitude through a tired smile which Atton returned. It took them a few moments to realize that Atton still held on to the Exile’s hand.

‘Alright, I’ll…’ the pilot gently squeezed Illa’s hand as he stood up, ‘I’ll be right back.’

The Exile watched him leave and at that moment it didn’t matter whether it was hope or lies that drove her as long as she kept going.


	2. Chapter 2

Illa couldn’t sleep. She watched the shuttles scurrying around Citadel Station through the window of her apartment. Somehow the sight of traffic calmed the Exile: it showed life and growth. Telos was one of the few places where Illa could look around without feeling haunted. Dxun, Dantooine… even on their path to recovery, they were still tainted by her past. Telos, however, felt different. Its future was certain or at least predictable. Illa needed that sense of certainty, because so many other aspects of her life felt like a dangerous gamble.

The Exile turned back to her bed only to see Atton lying awake, watching her. Loving him was the biggest gamble of them all. Illa knew, all it took was one slip to lose her soul or worse, lose his, and yet being with him felt worth it. Even with the sleepless nights she spent plagued by anxiety.

‘You were awake this whole time?’ She asked as she made her way back to her bed and sat beside Atton.

‘Yeah, but you looked like you needed to be alone,’ he said and placed a hand on her thigh, gently caressing her with his thumb.

‘Well, you could’ve distracted me,’ she swept a few strands of hair aside and kissed the pilot’s exposed forehead, ‘you are much more fun that my thoughts.’

‘That’s nice to hear, I guess,’ Atton reached behind Illa’s neck and pulled her down for a kiss. The Exile rested her hand on his chest, right above his heart. She felt a strong and steady heartbeat, a rhythm harmonious with both passion and serenity. When the kiss was broken she remained close enough to see the patterns in Atton’s iris, but all she saw was devotion. Certainty.

Illa often wondered how he did it. How Atton could place so much trust in people, follow them to hell and back even as they grew twisted and corrupted, even as they betrayed that trust – and still be willing to do all that again with the Exile. Illa admired his bravery. She was honored by his trust. And she was not going to let him down. He was ready to give his life and future to her, at the very least she could be ready to do the same for him. She could reinforce the trust in him, she could hold on to her bravery for him. It did not have to be a gamble.

‘What is it?’ Atton asked after a while.

Illa chuckled and lay down next to him. ‘Nothing. I was just thinking about what might come next. For us.’

‘And?’ Atton moved closer to wrap his arms around the Exile.

‘I’ll leave it up to you.’

‘I’ll bet you’ll regret saying that tomorrow.’

Illa merely smiled and closed her eyes. She was still smiling when she finally fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Illa always thought that there was something timeless about Coruscant. The capital of the Republic was constantly buzzing with life: power and intrigue could be felt in the air, the lights and motions of the planet showed an illusion of glory compelling enough to make one forget the misery plaguing the rest of the galaxy. It seemed that not even the Jedi’s departure could affect such a vibrant place.

The Exile stood at the entrance of the Jedi Temple with her students by her side. The silence coming from the building created a strong contrast against the sounds of the city around it. The place seemed more like a tomb than the place of learning it once was.

‘Wow. And I thought the Sith were megalomaniacs,’ Mira commented looking at the Temple’s massive pillars. ‘Are you sure it will be big enough for us? I mean… the ceiling seems a bit low.’

‘What is that supposed to mean? It obviously has a lot more room than we need,’ Brianna’s answer was met with barely contained snickering from the rest of the group.

Mical seemed to be the only one who was not completely awe struck by the building. ‘I wonder if I still remember where everything was. It’s been a long time since I’ve been here,’ he said entering the Temple as if he just arrived home.

‘A long time indeed,’ Illa muttered under her breath as she followed him.

The echo of the Exile’s footsteps were almost deafening in the stillness of the halls. Sunlight broke through the windows but they illuminated nothing but dust. Illa’s mind drifted to they she was exiled as she watched the tiny particles dancing in the air. The trial was relatively early in the day and aside from the Masters no one knew it was happening. When she left the Council’s chamber, Illa couldn’t even avoid the rest of the Jedi scurrying around – who did not treat her any differently than before. Only a handful of knights knew her and some of them even said hello when they glimpsed her. Others were too busy to notice her and the few who did only saw the Exile as a Jedi from a different temple. Illa, however, already felt like an outsider and as she aimlessly wandered the corridors again after so many years, she realized that the feeling never faded.

The Exile eventually ended up at the Jedi Council’s chamber. Her gaze immediately fell on the stone in the center of the room and she instinctively started searching for a familiar scorch mark. When she couldn’t find anything Illa stepped closer to the stone and wiped off a thin layer of dust, revealing a small black spot on the grey surface. Illa wondered if this is how the Masters saw her on the day of her sentencing – a barely noticeable wound that was somehow still able to be disruptive. Suddenly, every fiber of Illa’s being wanted to leave: she had no place there. However, before she could move, she felt hands on her waist slowly sliding to her front, enveloping her in a gentle embrace.

‘There you are,’ the Exile felt Atton’s breath on her ear. ‘Are you alright?’

Illa spent a moment just enjoying the feeling of the pilot’s arms around her before she pulled away and turned to face him.

‘No. I know, I should be glad to be here again but… I don’t know,’ she shook her head, ‘all of this just feels wrong. I feel like I’m trespassing.’

‘Yeah, I get that,’ Atton looked around in the chamber then he choose a seat and sat down. He spent some time trying to find a comfortable position with no success. ‘No,’ he said oddly cheerfully, ‘I don’t think I’m cut out for this,’ he stood up and joined Illa again, ‘and neither are you as far as I can tell.’

‘It’s not that, I think,’ the Exile sighed, ‘I just… I dreamed about coming back here as a Jedi. Which I’m not.’

‘You could be. There is no Council to say otherwise,’ the scoundrel joked somewhat bitterly and he did put a slightly disapproving smile on Illa’s face.

‘You know, they were right about some things…’

‘About the whole wound in the Force thing?’

The Exile nodded. ‘I don’t know if I could stay here… being what I am.’

Atton gave her a look that made Illa’s heart sink. There was sympathy in his gaze but sadness as well, almost as if Illa’s words were all too familiar to him.

‘Well, if you want to stay, no one’s gonna chase you away, trust me,’ the pilot stepped closer to the Exile. ‘But lucky for you, you have other options too,’ he reached for Illa’s hips and pulled her close. ‘You have a ship,’ he leaned in and kissed her on her cheek, ‘you have a pilot to fly it for you,’ he placed another shallow kiss on her lips, ‘the Republic is in your debt… we can go anywhere.’

Illa slipped her arms around Atton’s neck as he kissed her again, deeper this time. The touch of his lips, the taste of his tongue, the warmth of his body against hers – all that felt more natural and comforting than anything else since she arrived on the planet. The Exile even forgot to doubt herself for a moment. She knew the pilot loved her for the both of them and she loved him just as much in return. Even after they stopped, Illa couldn’t pull away. She spent a few moments to catch her breath in Atton’s embrace, and to be rejuvenated by his acceptance.

‘This sounds very tempting… I’ll give it some thought,’ the Exile said as she stepped away.

‘Fair enough,’ Atton answered with a soft chuckle and offered his hand. Illa took it and looked back at the central stone as she was lead away. She smiled at thought of one day being completely unaffected by the sight.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for insomnia and nightmares.

Illa woke up to the mattress shifting under her. Half-asleep, she reached out, only to find an empty spot in her bed beside her. She took a moment to get used to the darkness of her apartment and as she did so, she became more and more aware of something crippling. A sense of something that was distant and yet it was suffocating her from within. Her hands were shaking for seemingly no reason at all and there was a faint, dull pain throbbing in her head.

It didn’t take the Exile long to realize what was happening. She got out of bed and went to the bathroom. The door was locked and light was coming from inside.

‘Atton, are you okay?’ Illa knocked on the door.

‘Yeah… yeah, I just need a second,’ the scoundrel’s voice mixed with the sound of running water.

‘I could help you, you know,’ when she didn’t get an answer, the Exile started knocking on the door again.

‘I said, I’m fine,’ Atton said when he opened the door, ‘no need to get excited or anything,’ he stole a kiss from the Jedi and moved past her.

Illa knew he was lying. She was all too familiar with nightmares and if it were up to her, she wouldn’t have bothered Atton with those of her own either. Unfortunately, she almost always managed to wake him up and she couldn’t keep her feelings hidden from him.

Atton was already in bed by the time Illa got back to him.

‘Sit up for a moment,’ she said.

The scoundrel frowned at her at first, but soon his lips curled to a smile. ‘Your own side is not enough?’ he asked as he fulfilled the Exile’s request. 

Illa knelt on Atton’s pillow and reached for his shoulders. She pulled him back so he could rest his head on her lap. The Exile entered a healing trance as she started massaging the pilot’s temples. She moved her fingers along his features, applying sweet pressure on each bone and muscle.

‘Damn,’ Atton sighed, ‘I… think I needed this… Did you read my mind again?’

‘I didn’t have to,’ Illa’s answer wiped the smirk off the pilot’s face. For a moment she saw pain in his eyes, but then he closed them, and reluctantly allowed himself to enjoy the Exile’s touch.

‘Sorry for waking you up, by the way,’ he yawned.

‘No need to apologize. I kind of like spoiling you like this,’ the Exile said and leaned down to place a kiss on the scoundrel’s nose.

Atton softly chuckled at that. ‘I’ll keep that in mind,’ he said and Illa could tell he was already drifting off again. She carefully moved to his side and soon she fell asleep listening to his calmed breathing as if it was a lullaby.


	5. Chapter 5

Illa knew this day would come.

She stood in the cockpit of the Ebon Hawk, staring blankly at the now unlocked navigation computer. Dozens of new coordinates showed up on the screens and as each new planet appeared, the core of the Exile’s being turned more and more into a tight and painful knot. Only T3-M4 kept the Jedi company. His photoreceptor traced Illa’s face, watching for her reactions.

‘So you’re saying you had nothing to do with this?’ she asked eventually. T3 responded in a series of affirmative beeps.

It seemed that the computer unlocked itself. Illa wondered if she matched some sort of pre-requisite, if she was being watched and deemed ready to venture into the Unknown Regions. But it was also possible that Revan removed the voice-lock remotely: this could have a call to arms but a cry for help as well.

Whatever the case may have been, the Exile didn’t feel ready to leave. She was busy helping in the stabilization of the Republic. She was busy training her students. She was busy building a life of her own… a life she shared with Atton.

Illa’s heart sank when she thought of the pilot. When their relationship began, she tried making the most of it. She treated every moment with him like it was the last. She tried to prepare him for what was coming. But time passed and both T3 and the Ebon Hawk remained silent. The Exile grew used to the peace they offered to one another, to the home they found in each other, to the idea that she would never have to leave Atton. Which is why she never told him about the mission ahead of her.

The Exile used her commlink to invite Atton to the ship. She paced around nervously while she waited, reciting the Jedi Code as an attempt to calm herself, unsuccessfully. T3 offered to let Illa tinker with him, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to focus on repairs. Instead she tried to find the gentlest way to tell the scoundrel the news.

He arrived before she could come up with anything she liked.

‘Hey, I got your message. It sounded urgent,’ Atton said as he entered the cockpit and saw the Exile being gripped by anxiety. ‘What’s up?’

‘You should take a look at the navicomputer,’ that was all Illa could say. She took the co-pilot’s seat and listened to her lover as he voiced his surprise and delight at the fact that the voice-lock was gone. She kept her gaze fixed on the floor ahead of her, trying to keep her composure. Atton’s feelings turned to confusion as he examined the data stored in the computer – he didn’t recognize the planets but he gathered enough to be worried.

‘Illa, what’s going on?’ he asked.

The Exile looked up at the pilot, then shot a glance at T3. The droid took the hint and left to repair something that was probably already fixed.

‘I’m sorry, I… there’s a lot I must tell you,’ Illa said. ‘I should have told you a long time ago but I couldn’t… I didn’t know how I could without hurting you. I… still don’t know, actually.’

‘Well,’ Atton sighed, ‘I get the feeling I wouldn’t like what I’ll hear anyway,’ he took a seat as well. ‘So just go ahead. I can take it.’

Illa took a few moments to calm herself. Then she started talking. She told the scoundrel everything. She told him that T3 and the Ebon Hawk once belonged to Revan. She told him about T3’s mission to find the Exile. She told him about Admiral Onasi’s request. And she told him about the threat Revan went to fight.

Atton stayed quiet throughout. The Exile could tell he knew where her story was headed and he didn’t like it at all. Once she was finished, he stood up and started pacing up and down in the cockpit. He glanced a few times at the navicompter, tempted to destroy it.

‘I say we give this intel to the Senate and let them argue over it for as long as they like,’ he said as jokingly as he could even though he was seething with anger.

‘Atton, you know I can’t do that.’

‘Why? Because you think this is what Revan wants? Or because that admiral asked you? You don’t owe either of them anything,’ the scoundrel unintentionally snapped at the Exile. He stopped for a moment to control his emotions before he continued. ‘All this time you’ve been cleaning up Revan’s mess. You’ve done as much for the Republic as she has. The galaxy has you now, it doesn’t need her anymore.’ 

‘Don’t say that,’ Illa got out of her chair and stepped to Atton. She tried to calm him by placing her palms on his face. The pilot got lost in her gaze for a few moments, then closed his eyes and reached for the Exile’s hands pressing them harder against himself. ‘I need to do this,’ Illa went on, ‘if there really is a threat out there waiting to strike, we need to know what to prepare for. Revan is the only one who knows anything about all this.’  
Atton didn’t answer at first. He peeled the Exile’s hands off himself and looked at her, resigned to his fate. 

‘When do we leave then?’ He asked calmly but with disapproval.

Illa felt herself turning pale. She knew convincing the pilot to stay behind would be the hardest part. Especially since deep down she didn’t want to convince him.

‘We… are not going anywhere,’ the words felt like rocks on the Jedi’s lips. ‘I have to go alone.’

‘What?!’ the Exile read shock and rage from Atton’s eyes. ‘Are you fucking insane?’

‘I know, it sounds that way but I can’t bring you with me. I can’t bring anyone I love with me,’ Illa’s explanation turned into an outburst.

The pilot’s gaze softened at the words. Rage turned to sadness, shock turned to a degree of understanding, but there was defiance behind it all.

Illa continued, ‘I don’t know what’s out there but I know it’s dangerous. I can’t risk you getting hurt. I hope you understand.’

‘Yeah. I get that,’ Atton looked away from her and scoffed bitterly. ‘You realize how unfair this is, right?’ he said. The Exile couldn’t blame him. She did just ask him to do what she would not.

‘I know,’ she answered, ‘I don’t like it either.’

The scoundrel didn’t say anything, merely turned back to her. To Illa’s surprise, he embraced her firmly but loosely enough for her to pull away if she wanted to… but she didn’t want to. The Exile returned the hug and buried her face in the curve of Atton’s neck.

‘Illa,’ he broke the silence between them, ‘I asked you to teach me the ways of the Force for one reason. One reason only.’

‘You wanted to protect me,’ the Exile pulled away just far enough to look the pilot in the eye. ‘You could best do that by staying here.’

Atton frowned at the Jedi. ‘That’s not true, and you know it.’

Illa knew exactly what he was referring to. She swallowed hard as she remembered the words of the Jedi Council. Without her bonds, without her friends, she could not feel the Force. The Exile wasn’t sure if she felt grateful or offended by Atton’s reminder.

‘Who’s being unfair, now?’ she asked.

‘I know, I’m sorry. I just wanna help you. If that meant feeling the Force for you, then I wanna feel the Force for you,’ Atton tucked the Exile’s hair behind her ear.

‘And if it meant staying behind?’

‘Then we would argue circles around each other until we got bored and went home,’ the scoundrel shrugged.

Illa couldn’t help but laugh at that. It was a pained and tired laugh, that couldn’t hide the tears gathering in her eyes.

‘See? Your trip would be a lot more fun if I came along,’ Atton made the Exile laugh again and this time she couldn’t hold back the tears. The pilot left kisses on her eyelids and pulled her closer, letting her rest her head on his shoulder.

Illa couldn’t deny the truth behind Atton’s words. She couldn’t deny the truth in her instincts. If she was going to fight yet another war, she needed something more than her duty to the Republic, more than the Jedi Code, more than the will of the Force. She has been completely alone before and it has brought her neither peace nor truth. Her connections, however, have.

‘Atton, if this was up to me…’ 

‘It is up to you,’ Atton spoke softly, reassuringly.

‘I suppose, it is,’ Illa said, wiping away her tears. She knew whatever she was going to say next – whether she would push Atton away or she would give into him – would turn out to be a mistake sooner or later. The Exile sighed, bracing herself. ‘Please, come with me,’ she said eventually. Each word hurt her but also comforted her.

‘Thank you,’ Atton answered with relief, ‘I won’t let you down.’

‘I’m more worried I would let you down,’ Illa admitted. She listened to Atton’s words of support and she became certain that even if her decision turned out to be a mistake, she wouldn’t choose differently.

Risks and regrettable decisions made her who she was, after all.


	6. Chapter 6

’Alright, I think I got it,’ Atton said, slightly panting, but still as cocky as ever.

Illa wanted to teach him some quick, somewhat risky, but rewarding maneuvers. The scoundrel was a quick learner, thanks to his Echani training, but the Exile wanted to make sure he mastered the disarming technique she just showed him. The two of them had already sparred a few rounds in the Ebon Hawk’s cargo hold, but neither of them felt tired, instead they were rejuvenated by their exertions.

‘Ready for another round, then?’ Illa spun her vibroblade and took a defensive stance.

‘Damn right, I am,’ Atton boasted as he took his starting stance as well. ‘Do I get a kiss, if I win?’

The Exile merely rolled her eyes as an answer but she couldn’t suppress her smile.

The two of them took a few steps, circling each other, examining one another and waiting for the first strike. Atton finally lunged forward but Illa could easily deflect the blow. The scoundrel, however, seemed to have expected the move and followed it up with a slash at the Exile’s face. She dodged the attack, but Atton was relentless. He pressed on, keeping her on the defensive. At last, as their blades met, the pilot stepped to the side and caught Illa in an armlock, hitting her sword out of her hand as he did so.

‘Told you I got it,’ he chuckled.

‘Yes, it seems that way,’ Illa groaned and took a glance at Atton’s feet. ‘But you should really pay attention to your stance,’ she said as she kicked at the pilot’s ankle, sweeping him off his feet.

The fall surprised Atton: he dragged the Exile with him, but his hold loosened. That was enough for Illa to free herself and crawl over him. She reached out to pull her blade back to her through the Force as she straddled the scoundrel. However, Atton was quick to point his sword at the Exile’s side. She lowered her hand, when she saw the weapon.

‘Well done,’ she said, smiling approvingly at the pilot.

Atton’s face reflected something different. Illa watched the rush of combat turn into desire in his eyes, and his slightly parted lips curl to a smile invitingly. He dropped his blade and reached for the Exile’s face. He pulled her down, claiming her lips ravenously, which surprised Illa at first but she melted into the kiss a moment later. She pressed her hands against the pilot’s chest, enjoying the feeling of his heart beating fast for her. Atton grasped her hair with one hand and let the other wander along the Exile’s thigh. She gasped, breaking the kiss, but the scoundrel nipped at her lower lip and pulled her back. Illa completely lost her sense of time as they went on hastily and sloppily, dancing along the line between giving in to their craving for each other and controlling their passions. After a while, Atton’s touch grew gentler, and his mouth moved slower and softer against Illa’s. She felt she had to rest her forehead against his once they broke off the kiss for good.

‘Thanks… I practiced a lot,’ the scoundrel joked, replying to the praise he received what seemed like an eternity before.

Illa laughed and placed a kiss on Atton’s face. ‘This better prove to be motivational,’ she said as she reluctantly got back on her feet and helped him up as well.

‘Trust me, it is,’ he replied with a gaze that filled the Exile with warmth.

That was all Illa needed to hear to find her own motivation as well.


	7. Chapter 7

’Oh, come on,’ Illa hissed at a small container with a particularly complex lock. Compared to the other locks the Exile cracked in the previous hours, this one was remarkably frustrating and proved to be a true test of her patience.

‘Hey,’ she didn’t notice Atton approaching and his voice nearly startled her, ‘have you seen Bao-Dur?’ he asked, prompting the Exile to turn away from the workbench. She didn’t even realize that the engineer left. Illa scolded herself for not paying attention to her surroundings better and she grew even more frustrated about the box requiring so much of her focus.

‘He wanted to check something on the turbolasers,’ she guessed, hoping that the scoundrel wouldn’t notice the uncertainty in her voice and that he would let her suffer with the lock in peace.

Atton, however, didn’t leave. His gaze darted to the workbench, then to the tools in Illa’s hands, then back to the Exile’s face.

‘What’s that?’ he pointed at the box. Illa sensed a hint of amusement in his voice.

The Exile turned back to the small container, trying to hide the heat rising in her cheeks. She was convinced that the Force was playing a joke on her by sending Atton to her in her moment of shame. He could’ve picked that blasted lock in no time and Illa was certain she wouldn’t hear the end of this for quite a while.

‘Nothing,’ she said, trying to ignore the pilot walking up to her.

‘Right,’ he replied. ‘Just so you know, from this angle, you look pretty worked up over that… nothing.’

Illa frowned at Atton as an answer, but to her surprise, the look the pilot gave her was warm, encouraging even. And in a way, she couldn’t help but see adoration in his eyes as well. The Exile quickly convinced herself that she imagined that bit.

‘It’s just…’ she tried to explain, ‘I’ve been trying to open this thing for… I don’t know how long and it’s starting to get on my nerves.’

‘You could’ve just asked me,’ Atton said and reached for the box.

Illa swept his hand away. ‘That’s the point. Kreia tasked me with working on my weakest skills. This is a lesson about self-reliance.’

‘So you picked up the most secure safe-box in this system and got pissed off, when it turned out to be challenging to crack,’ the scoundrel teased.

‘You don’t get to be judgmental here,’ Illa poked his arm gently, ‘I’ve seen how you react when you can’t open something.’

Atton looked at the point where the Exile touched him for a second.

‘Fair enough,’ he said as he stepped behind Illa. He placed his hands over hers and guided them towards the lock.

‘Atton, what are you-‘

‘Ssh,’ Illa could almost feel the pilot’s lips against her ear. ‘Don’t be an ass. Just let me help you.’

The Exile let out a somewhat staggered sigh. ‘I’m not supposed to ask for help.’

‘You didn’t ask. I’ll vouch for you,’ Atton reassured her, ‘I’ll just show you how it’s done. You can practice on your own after that,’ he said as he gently pressed her hands against the weak points of the lock, showing her what to feel for through touch.

Illa couldn’t help but grow more and more flustered with each second. She wasn’t sure if it was Atton’s display of finesse as he guided her or if it was the way his body enveloped hers but something about him made her heart race in a way she wasn’t prepared for. Illa was always careful to guard her emotions during training sessions, but this felt… different. And that alone was enough to disorient her. She found it hard to pay attention to the pilot’s tips but she had to. She had to focus to keep her composure, to ignore the passions the scoundrel evoked in her so unexpectedly.

The lock gave way after a while, though Illa couldn’t tell how long it’s been.

‘There you go,’ Atton spoke softly and yet his voice was hoarse, ‘you’re welcome.’

The Exile needed a moment before she could reply. ‘Right. Thank you.’

‘I should uh… probably go find Bao-Dur,’ the scoundrel said but he showed no willingness to let Illa go just yet.

‘And I should probably get back to practicing…’

‘Yeah…’ Atton reluctantly pulled away. When the Exile turned to follow him with her gaze, he let his own linger on her lips for a moment. ‘Have fun with that,’ he said, forcing himself to turn his attention away from her and forcing himself even harder to leave her.

Illa stood at the workbench, dazed, and somewhat confused by the emotions that came over her. Then she turned back to the box, locking it again, ready to channel her passions to whatever she could get her hands on.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for ptsd nightmares

Illa had no control over her movements. She walked with determination, but she couldn’t remember why she was there in the first place or where she was headed. The Exile turned on her lightsaber as she entered the building and spun the weapon to warm up her wrist, but she couldn’t feel its weight. She saw it was her old blade, the one the Council took from her, the one she reclaimed but couldn’t bring herself to use. 

The Trayus Academy was filled with Sith, Jedi, Mandalorians and soldiers from the Republic. They were too busy fighting each other to notice the Exile. Illa didn’t know what she did to turn their attention to herself, but suddenly they all charged at her. Or maybe she was the one who cut them down while they weren’t looking. She couldn’t tell.

She heard voices. Revan’s, Kreia’s, people’s whose names she couldn’t recall. She heard accusations, commands, pleas, cries, whispers. Or maybe it was just the sound of a distant turbolaser going off. She couldn’t tell.

Illa told herself it was just a dream. Again and again. She told herself she could break free if she could focus on the reality around her. But it was hard to concentrate in the motions and the chaos of her own mind. If only she had a moment without all the noise and violence…

_I love you._

It was merely a whisper but it was thunderous. It was quickly drowned out by the battle cry of a soldier swinging his blade at Illa.

_… loved you from the moment I first saw you…_

The Exile didn’t strike back, but dodged the attack instead. Then she dodged the next one. And the next one. She dropped the lightsaber and moved among the ghosts with ease. She became aware of certain sensations: warmth at her back, the touch of a blanket, someone wrapping their arm around her.

_… thought you were a dream…_

Illa’s eyes popped open. She was surrounded by familiar, comforting darkness. She was grasping at the corner of her blanket with one hand, so forcefully, so desperately it almost hurt. She let go of it with a sigh and tried to regain more of her senses. Her other hand was held down firmly. The Exile loosened Atton’s hold so she could turn to face him.

‘Hey,’ the pilot’s voice was tired. Illa saw concern turning into relief in his eyes, but then he blinked with heavy eyelids. He merely looked sleepy after that.

‘Hey,’ the Exile mustered a smile, ‘did I wake you up?’

‘Yeah, you… kinda slapped me,’ Atton complained.

Illa buried her face in a pillow. ‘Sorry,’ she groaned, then turned her attention back to the scoundrel, ‘where did I hit you?’

Atton lifted his hand off her so he could gesture at the side of his face which was not covered by pillows. The Exile shook her head with fake disapproval before she moved closer to him. She left one clumsy kiss after the other on the scoundrel’s cheek, on his eyelid, along his jawline, finishing with his lips. 

Illa laid back down, with her face barely an inch away from the pilot’s. ‘I love you too,’ she said.

‘What?’ Atton frowned at the Exile in confusion.

‘I mean,’ Illa reached for the back of the scoundrel’s neck, with her hand still slightly shaking after the nightmare, trying to caress him with her thumb, ‘I heard your voice in my dream. You said… You love me… right?’

There was a moment of silence followed by the pilot’s sigh. ‘You heard that, huh?’ his voice rang with both joy and disappointment. He let his eyelids drop and spent a few seconds enjoying the Exile’s touch. ‘Yeah… yeah, I do.’

‘Well.. I love you too,’ Illa closed the gap between the two of them. Atton’s lips moved lazily against hers but with no less warmth or care.

‘Are you okay now?’ he asked once they broke off the kiss.

‘I feel… better, thank you,’ Illa answered, slightly surprised at her own feelings. ‘I just… I think I need a little more time… you know?’

‘I get that,’ Atton replied, ‘turn around.’

The Exile did as he asked and in turn Atton moved closer to cradle her body with his own. She listened to the scoundrel fall asleep again, and soon she slowly drifted into a dreamless sleep as well.


	9. Chapter 9

Atton couldn’t have been more bored. He was watching the lights cast by hyperspace and allowed his thoughts to wander the narrow path set by sensations and his own control. There was something about those blue motions… something he found hard to grasp that reminded him of the Exile.

It may have been her eyes or her glow or maybe it was her beauty he saw in those waves and whirlwinds. He may have seen what she meant to him in there. It may have been her strength he saw or the respect he had for it. It may have been her kindness that inspired both adoration and anxiety. Or maybe he saw her tenderness matched by his care for her and his hatred for himself. She was like a powerful magnet, attractive and polarizing; like a homing beacon in the middle of nowhere, promising safe haven in the midst of darkness. 

Atton let his thoughts drift to himself – to all the things he wanted to do to the Exile. He imagined the trail of his touches and kisses, the contrast between the cold lights of space and the warmth of her halo, the weight of her body against his own, her sweet pressure as she straddled him, the way she whispered his name… it almost sounded real.

‘Atton!’ Illa raised her voice. She stood in the doorway to the cockpit, looking somewhat disheveled. Her face reflected confusion but the scoundrel could’ve sworn he heard frustration in her tone. Frustration directed at him.

‘Uh… something wrong?’ he asked, as he stood up from his seat to face her.

The Exile’s expression softened until she merely looked slightly embarrassed. ‘Not really,’ she said. ‘I bet you’ll think I’m overreacting.’

‘Okay… but that depends on what you’re gonna say next,’ Atton tried to encourage her, even though he wasn’t sure if that was wise.

Illa smiled at the pilot and made her way to the co-pilot’s seat. The pilot sat back down as well while he kept his gaze fixed on the Exile. He got a bit lost in her features while he waited for her to speak.

‘I was trying to meditate and I…’ Illa seemed to be at a loss for words. It was not a sight the scoundrel saw often. She sighed and went on. ‘I felt your thoughts. Or maybe it would be better to say that I got an impression of your feelings.’

Atton turned away from her, cursing himself for not shielding his mind better and cursing Illa for reaching out to him at the worst possible time.

‘Let me guess,’ he said, ‘you didn’t like what you felt and this is the part where you ask me to stop thinking the way I do.’

‘No! It’s not that,’ Illa said to Atton’s surprise. ‘I mean, I would never… it’s just that… what do you know about Force bonds?’

The pilot had to think for a moment. A few words echoed in his mind: _the best way to turn a master is to hurt their apprentice._ Atton could follow up the line of thought easily but reluctantly.

‘There is the thing between master and apprentice,’ he said, turning back to Illa, ‘and there is whatever you have with Kreia.’

‘True,’ the Exile chuckled, ‘that’s a bit of a special case. Still, I was trying to make a point here.’

‘About you and I…’

‘Yes, master and apprentice.’

‘You know, I hate it when you talk about us that way,’ Atton joked, prompting Illa to roll her eyes at him.

‘My point is,’ she went on, ’that I think we already have this bond. It’s supposed to be a deep emotional connection that takes time to develop but I can’t help but feel that it’s real. But I’m not entirely sure.’

‘Deep emotional connection…’ the scoundrel liked the sound of it, ‘is that gonna be a problem?’

‘I suppose it won’t,’ Illa looked away from him, ‘but it can get terrifying.’

‘Yeah, attachments are funny like that,’ Atton replied. ‘I get it.’

‘No, you don’t, or at least not yet,’ the Exile sounded pained, although her face didn’t reflect it. The pilot felt the urge to rush to her, to comfort her, but a second later, he felt a hint of… fear. It was a weak and distant feeling, but it was still paralyzing. ‘When you’re bonded with someone through the Force,’ Illa explained, ‘their emotions resonate within you. The deeper the bond, the stronger the resonance. Sometimes it’s… overwhelming. It becomes difficult to feel yourself.’

Atton understood what she meant. The fear that stung him so suddenly made sense now. She was scared of losing herself and he felt an echo of it. There was a time when he was afraid of this too.

‘I don’t know. Everyone needs to get lost once in a while, and getting lost in someone else… doesn’t sound so bad,’ he tried to reassure the Exile as well as himself.

‘Back on Peragus, I felt Kreia’s pain as my own,’ Illa looked at her arm, reminiscing. ‘And just a few minutes ago, I felt your passion as my own.’

Atton felt himself turning pale. He has wanted the Exile since the moment they met but to think of the possibility of her feeling the same way, to hear about it from her… it was too good and too terrible to be true. Better than what he deserved and worse than what he intended.

‘I feel all these emotions that are not my own and…’ Illa added, ‘all these new feelings are scaring me. And I worry how my feelings would distort yours in time,’ she sighed. She laughed at herself bitterly but somehow she also looked relieved when she turned to Atton. ‘I am overreacting, aren’t I?’

‘Maybe a little,’ the pilot lied, at least in part. He would’ve felt the same in her place. In some sense, he was already in her place, and yet, it wasn’t fear that he felt. A part of him felt cheated, angry at the Force for tying him down, for manipulating him and Illa in the process, for forcing them to question what they felt for each other. However, another part of him felt that nothing has changed. ‘You’ll figure this out, like you always do,’ he said eventually.

‘We’ll do it together,’ the Exile answered. ‘You’re probably a lot more vulnerable to this bond than I am. I’m sorry. I’m not in the position to complain –’

‘Hey, don’t worry about it,’ Atton interrupted her, ‘I think I can handle whatever you throw at me.’

‘Still, I won’t betray your trust,’ Illa stood up from her seat. ‘But I think it would be wise to let you know when I’m meditating. Just to be safe… and to avoid embarrassing conversations like this one.’

‘That sounds like the right idea to me.’

The Exile gave Atton a nod. She kept her gaze on him for a few more moments, then left smiling to herself shyly. The pilot turned his attention back to space, trying to find literally anything that didn’t lead him down a spiral of confusion created by the Force and his own feelings.


	10. Chapter 10

Illa rummaged through her things searching for some dry clothes. Her robes were soaked through by the rains of Dxun, uncomfortably sticking to her shivering body. She quickly slipped into the first set she managed to pick out, and tried to grow warmer as she twisted her hair, forcing the water weighing it down out of her strands. The Exile then made her way to the cockpit.

Atton turned to her somewhat sluggishly.

‘Hey,’ he yawned, ‘ready to leave?’

‘Absolutely,’ Illa sighed, as she checked hyperspace routes. ‘Looks like Korriban’s next.’

‘Wonderful,’ the pilot groaned and ignited the ship’s engine.

The Ebon Hawk took off without any malfunctions which made the Exile smile. After the freighter crash landed on Dxun, Atton offered to fix the Hawk on his own. It took him quite some time, and yet he stubbornly refused any sort of help from Illa, T3 and Bao-Dur. However, the results spoke for themselves. A few moments later, the ship jumped to lightspeed.

Illa walked up to Atton’s seat. The pilot seemed lost in thought but at the same time, he also looked strangely tense.

‘Are you alright?’ she asked and placed her hand on his shoulder reassuringly.

‘What-?’ Atton turned to her. He blinked at her in confusion for a few moments until his mind wandered back to is immediate surroundings. ‘Uh, yeah… yeah, I’m fine,’ the pilot looked at the controls in front of him. He frowned and the Exile couldn’t tell if he found something troublesome or if he was simply choosing his words carefully. ‘I’m just tired, that’s all,’ he said eventually and turned his attention back to Illa with a bitter chuckle. ‘I haven’t slept in four days.’

The Exile got the feeling there was more to this, but Atton did seem exhausted. The real question was whether the repairs kept him up all this time or it was something else. Still, if the scoundrel didn’t want her help, there was only so much she could do.

‘Could you come here for a moment?’ Illa stepped back from the pilot’s seat, hoping that Atton would follow. And he did. He stood up and stepped to her with a questioning look on his face. The Exile in turn wrapped her arms around him. She reached behind the scoundrel’s head and tilted it down, making him rest it on her shoulder. Atton stood frozen for a moment, then eased into the embrace.

‘You’re cold,’ he said when he returned the hug. Before the Exile could answer, he started rubbing her back firmly but gently.

‘I’m alright, really,’ Illa chuckled and pulled away, even though, she had to admit, she enjoyed Atton’s touch. ‘It’s you, who needs some proper rest now,’ she said and took the pilot’s hand. She guided him towards the port dormitory.

‘Illa… what’s going on?’ Atton asked as he followed more and more reluctantly with each moment.

‘I just thought,’ Illa let go of the scoundrel when she glimpsed the wet clothes still lying on her bed, ‘that you could get some sleep in an actual bed for a change,’ she replied, picking up the clothes and placing them on her bags. ‘It’s all yours,’ she gestured at her bed.

Atton looked at the bed then back to the Exile. He seemed somewhat baffled for a few seconds but then the corners of lips curled to a tired smile. ‘You don’t have to do this,’ he said.

‘Yes, I do, now get comfortable.’

The pilot shook his head disapprovingly. He sighed with resignation and stepped to the bed hesitantly. He shot a glance at the Exile, frowning, then started removing his jacket, prompting Illa to turn away from him.

‘What about you?’ Atton’s question interrupted the sounds of fabric and leather sliding off him.

‘What about me?’

‘You were pretty busy too… hacking your way through the jungle, getting mushy with the Mandalorians…’

‘I also solved a murder case,’ Illa added jokingly, ‘but I had time to rest between all these things, so don’t worry.’

‘Not what I meant, but good to know,’ the Exile heard Atton kick off his shoes. ‘What I meant was… never mind.’

Illa could guess what the pilot wanted to say and why he decided against saying it. The first few minutes on Dxun were… grueling. The place carried too many ghosts and too many memories. But Dxun was merciless towards the unwary and the Exile quickly found out that she couldn’t afford thinking on the past while the present demanded all her concentration. It didn’t take much more than that to grow… used to the place. Illa knew she’ll never be free from the past she left on the moon but for now she could wander in the jungle in relative peace. 

‘I’m alright, Atton, but thank you.’

‘Well, that’s nice to hear,’ Atton replied. ‘By the way, your bed is… hard. Harder than my chair. Just letting you know,’ he added a few seconds later.

Illa turned around to see the scoundrel trying to find a comfortable position. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight. She walked up to him and sat down on the edge of the bed. Atton stopped squirming then.

‘Atton,’ Illa reached for his hand, ‘you know I’m always here for you, right?’

The pilot examined the Exile’s face but something made him look away from her. Illa saw pain in his eyes, however it was gone by the time he turned back to her.

‘I know,’ he said bitterly, ‘what brought this up?’

‘Earlier, I got a sense of… tension from you. I felt fear, I think,’ the Exile replied. ‘But I know you. Asking about it won’t help.’

‘You’re damn right about that. So I suggest you drop this,’ there was anger in Atton’s voice.

‘I will. I just wanted you to know that if you ever need me to listen, or to help you with repairs or… anything, I’ll be… I am here.’

‘Anything? Careful, I might just take your offer on that one,’ the scoundrel said suggestively. But at least Illa could see the slightest hint of a smile on his face.

‘You know what I meant,’ she said, flustered.

‘I know,’ Atton sat up to embrace Illa again, ‘I don’t think I… ‘ he stopped himself from finishing the sentence. He let out a small sigh before he continued, ‘I know. Thanks.’

The Exile didn’t answer, she simply allowed herself to enjoy the hug.

‘I’ll let you rest,’ she said when she pulled away and stood up from the bed. She picked up her soaked clothes and left to find a place where she could hang them to dry.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for suicidal thoughts.

‘Need any company? I mean, I’m not doing anything.’

Illa’s heart skipped a beat when Atton’s voice broke through the thunderous rumbling of Malachor falling apart. Even with everything that has happened in the last few hours, even with the guilt of the past and present clawing at her throat, the grief she felt for Kreia, the urging threat of the Mass Shadow Generator being activated again, she still felt relief washing over her. The Exile rushed ahead and wrapped her arms tightly around the scoundrel.

‘See?’ he said. ‘Told you it was nothing,’ he reassured the Jedi still shaking with fear.

Fear she felt for him.

Hours before, Illa sat beside Atton in the cockpit of the Ebon Hawk. They still had some time until they reached Malachor but the silence was so deep aboard the freighter, one would’ve believed it was a small graveyard world of its own. The pilot busied himself with reviewing the ship’s controls over and over, and the Exile could’ve found something to do as well, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave him.

Illa looked at Atton and her heart sank. She knew Malachor would be a place that would punish her, that it would demand sacrifices from her and she spent most of the time during journey there coming to terms with the fact that she may have to leave some things behind. She wanted to think she was ready but that illusion shattered when she glimpsed the scoundrel’s thoughts.

‘Atton,’ she called out to him. After sitting silently for so long, she could only muster a whisper.

‘Yeah?’ the pilot was still able to hear her and that made the Exile swallow hard.

‘I touched your mind earlier,’ she said, prompting Atton to stop and turn to her.

‘What did you find this time?’ he asked bitterly, expecting a lecture or a scolding as an answer.

‘You wished you never met me,’ Illa echoed his thoughts back to him. ‘You wished you died at Malachor V,’ her voice cracked at the last word. She turned away and shut her eyes, trying to fight the tears gathering in them.

Atton stayed quiet for a few moments. ‘Shit,’ he hissed eventually. ‘Look, you know me, I… I’m told I’m a bit of an idiot. I wouldn’t take me seriously if I were you,’ he explained.

‘How could I not?’ Illa turned back to him. She sounded snappier than she intended. ‘Between the things you told me on Nar Shaddaa and this… but I thought…’ she sighed, trying to gather her thoughts. ‘Why haven’t you told me?’ that was all she could say.

‘Because thoughts like these come and go, ‘Atton stared at a small screen in front of him. ‘They’re pretty tiresome but at the end of the day, I’m still standing so they’re pretty meaningless too. They’re nothing, just… empty words in my head, but I also knew that you’d react like this if you knew,’ he shrugged. ‘You’ve got a lot to worry about already and I got this covered. So can we drop this? Please?’ the pilot looked the Exile in the eye.

Illa held his gaze. ‘No,’ the words she was about to say clogged her throat, suffocating her but she went on, ‘I can’t. Malachor has taken enough from us already. Please… don’t let it take more. I… I can’t lose you, not here, not now, not like this,’ she paused, trying to regain her composure, but continued when she saw Atton trying to interrupt her. ‘Just… if this is really nothing then prove it. If you see your chance down there, do not take it. If this will all pass, then hold on until it does. Please, I… that’s all I ask.’

Atton looked stunned for a second. He opened his mouth to say something but then he changed his mind. He turned his attention back to the ship.

‘I told you not to get too attached to me,’ he said without looking at Illa.

‘Sorry. I didn’t take that bit seriously,’ the Exile said defiantly, but at the same time grasping at the arms of her seat, trying to ease the shaking of her hands.

That shaking didn’t cease until they were both back on the Ebon Hawk, flying away from the drifting pieces of Malachor V. At the end of that day they were still standing and those words truly were meaningless.


	12. Chapter 12

Illa’s consciousness was slowly descending into a trance. She breathed slowly, stripping away the distractions of her senses, leaving nothing but the Force behind. She felt a presence next to her own, a presence she knew well and loved.

Even though its owner has been testing her patience all day.

Atton, can you hear me? The Exile called out to the pilot with her thoughts. There was no reply. She called out again. And again. And again. She got nothing but silence from the other end.

Illa sighed and guided herself out of her trance. She slowly took in her surroundings once more: the comforting sight of her apartment, the sounds of Citadel Station, and Atton sitting on the floor with her. The Exile looked at the scoundrel who was watching her with one eye open. He quickly shut it when her gaze met his and pretended he was deep in meditation.

‘Atton,’ Illa’s voice rang with disappointment, ‘you can stop that.’

The pilot slouched as he sat and exhaled. He looked up at the Exile and Illa saw discomfort and guilt in his eyes for a moment before he blinked, and his usual cocky expression appeared on his face.

‘I blew it again, didn’t I?’ Atton asked rhetorically. Illa got the impression that he was actually pleased with himself.

‘You’re not even trying,’ she said, shooting him a disapproving glare.

‘Or,’ the pilot shrugged, ‘this is just not something for me.’

The Exile squinted at the scoundrel. There was more to this. She could feel it. The realization made her heart sink. It hurt that after everything they went through together, after all the time they devoted to each other, the scoundrel still didn’t trust her the way she trusted him: entirely and unconditionally.

‘Atton, you’re one of the most talented people I know when it comes to matters of the mind. Telepathy should be easy for you,’ Illa said eventually.

The pilot sighed in exasperation. He stood up and spent a few moments pacing up and down in the room. ‘Maybe this isn’t a matter of talent,’ he rubbed a sore spot on the back of his neck.

Illa felt a hint of fear resonating in her. She stood up and stepped to Atton.

‘Talk to me, love,’ she tried to place her hand on the scoundrel’s face but he turned away from her. The Exile reached for his hand instead and this time he didn’t pull away. ‘Whatever it is that scares you, you can tell me about it.’

‘I’m not scared,’ Atton turned back to Illa, frowning, ‘it’s just… first you teach me how to read minds. Next, you’ll teach me how to manipulate them. And before I know it, I’ll become the exact kind of Jedi I hate.’  
The Exile stood frozen for a second. She stood, watching the pilot with wonder, unable to tear her gaze away from him. She didn’t think it was possible for her to fall in love with Atton again, but she knew what she was feeling.

‘That will never happen to you,’ she said breathlessly.

The scoundrel scoffed. ‘Yeah, right.’

Illa shook her head, smiling, at the display of stubbornness. ‘Tell me, when was the last time you saw me use mind tricks?’ she prompted the pilot to recall their journeys together. He thought for a few seconds before he answered.

‘I… I don’t think I’ve ever seen you use it,’ he said and his expression softened, ‘but you never needed it, you’re smooth enough as it is.’

‘Exactly. Listen… knowledge, skills, powers… these do not define a person. They do not define me and they do not define you. My teachings will not reshape you unless you want them. I pass on what I know for the sake of preservation, nothing more.’

‘Save that talk for Mical and Brianna,’ Atton groaned. ‘You know damn well there’s only one thing I want to preserve,’ he tucked a few strands of hair behind Illa’s ear.

‘I know,’ the Exile lifted the hand she’s been holding and placed a kiss on it. ‘I also know that you won’t abuse the knowledge I share with you,’ she chuckled softly. ‘I think you might be the only Force user I’ve ever met who worried about invading someone’s privacy. I’m really proud of you.’

A faint blush appeared on Atton’s cheeks. ‘Dammit…’ he muttered to himself, ‘I’ll think about it, okay? But I don’t promise anything.’

‘That’s more than enough for me,’ Illa placed a kiss on his face. ‘I love you,’ she added.

‘Yeah, that’s not gonna convince me,’ the scoundrel replied with a smirk.

‘That’s not why I said it,’ Illa closed the gap between them again. She had to admit: at that moment, she didn’t care what Atton would eventually answer. Her heart was full to bursting with pride and adoration for him. She allowed herself to get lost in those feelings with strengthened trust and love.


	13. Chapter 13

Illa woke up with a dull, familiar pain throbbing in her head. She didn’t have to think hard on the cause: over the last ten years she had plenty of nightmares that she forgot as soon as she woke up. But the suffocating sense of dread lingered, as did the bruises if she got any while she was thrashing around. The Exile got up groaning and picked up her blanket from the bed. She wrapped it around herself as she quietly made her way to the central room of the Ebon Hawk.

The ship was silent. T3-M4 was making his usual rounds and Illa could hear Bao-Dur tinkering with G0-T0 but aside from them, everyone else was asleep. The Exile curled up on a chair and tried to meditate. She tried focusing on the humming of the hyperdrive and the breathing of her companions. But just as she managed to calm her mind she felt a touch on her arm.

Illa opened her eyes and looked to her side only to see Atton there. The pilot either didn’t realize or he didn’t care that he sat close enough for his shoulder to touch hers.

‘Sorry, did I snap you out of it?’ he asked apologetically.

The Jedi waved him off. ‘It’s okay. I wasn’t all that deep into it, anyway.’

‘Good,’ he yawned. ‘To be honest I didn’t expect you to be up this late.’

‘I wasn’t planning on this, but…’ Illa rubbed her aching temple, ‘you know how it is.’

The scoundrel gave her a sympathetic look. ‘Only too well,’ he said.

The Exile didn’t answer. She gave him a nod then the two of them sat quietly for a few moments. Illa found the silence oddly comforting. She felt her mind going still slowly, almost as if she was meditating, but the sensation was more subtle than that and somehow… warmer, kinder. Easier. She absentmindedly reached for Atton’s hand and he in turn intertwined his fingers with hers. She glanced at him just as he turned away from her.  
‘Is this why you’re awake?’ Illa asked, hoping that the scoundrel wouldn’t notice the blush spreading on her cheeks. ‘You’ve been having bad dreams too?’

‘No,’ the pilot let out a soft and yet bitter chuckle, ‘I haven’t even got that far. I can’t sleep,’ he shot a glance at the Exile’s shoulder, ‘uhh… can I sleep here?’ he asked cautiously.

It took the Jedi some time to process the question. ‘You mean…’ she raised a shoulder and gestured at it.

Atton nodded. Even with the tired expression on his face, Illa got the feeling that he was questioning whether he was right to ask this. That he needed her permission as an answer to that question. However, the Exile didn’t know how to answer either.

‘Sure, why not?’ she said eventually and a part of her already regretted it.

The scoundrel’s lips curled to an exhausted and bittersweet smile as he moved to rest his head on Illa’s shoulder. The serenity she felt not long ago was gone and she had to force herself to ignore the soft, light pressure Atton placed on her, the scent of his hair filling her nostrils, the feeling of his thumb caressing her hand gently. And most of all her heart pounding fast in her chest.

‘Would you like my blanket?’ the Jedi asked nervously, mostly to distract herself.

Atton lifted his head, giving the Exile a moment’s relief, and accepted the offer. He insisted on sharing the small blanket, however, and tried wrapping it around both of them, which proved to be more challenging than he thought.

‘You know, this would be a lot easier, if…’ he said after a few awkward tries, but he couldn’t bring himself to say his piece. ‘Forget it,’ he shook his head and tried handing the blanket back instead.

Illa could guess what he intended, however. She pushed his hand away, then reached across his shoulder and pulled herself closer to him. She sat on his lap and let her legs dangle off his other side.

‘Is this what you had in mind?’ she asked.

‘Yeah,’ the pilot sighed, ‘this is exactly it,’ he said as he covered themselves. ‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’ he asked a few seconds later.

‘I’m almost entirely certain it’s not,’ the Exile answered as she buried her face in the curve of Atton’s neck.

‘That’s what I was thinking,’ he embraced her a little more tightly.

It didn’t take them long to drift into sleep after that. Illa woke up with a different kind of headache the next morning. But she had to admit, deep down, there was a part of her that was grateful for it.


	14. Chapter 14

’Damn this thing,’ Atton groaned at the end of yet another round of sparring. It was Illa’s idea to have him wear Jedi robes for a training session, just to see how the pilot would fare in a fight in them.

Atton absolutely hated the robes. They provided little to no protection, they were easy to grab onto and they came undone in a matter of seconds. After each round the scoundrel spent minutes fixing them in vain.

‘How the hell do these clothes not drive you mad?’ he complained. ‘Wait, never mind, this actually explains a lot.’

Illa laughed at the comment. ‘It might have something to do with putting them on correctly,’ she said as she walked up to Atton. ‘May I?’ she pointed at the robes on him.

‘Uh… sure,’ the scoundrel let the Exile reach for him. 

Illa didn’t become nearly as distracted undressing him then dressing him back up as he did merely watching her and enjoying her touch. She wrapped the robes firmly around him, she tucked in those bits of cloth that the pilot left hanging out, she smoothed the fabric where he left wrinkles and she tied her knots a lot tighter than he did. The Exile tested her work by pulling at the clothes. They held firmly, but Atton was caught off guard. He took a step forward and reached for Illa’s waist to steady himself.

‘Sorry,’ they said at the same time. Illa softly chuckled at that. Atton fought the urge to kiss her.

‘We should get back to it,’ the Exile pulled away eventually and they took their starting stances for another round.


	15. Chapter 15

Sometimes long journeys left their marks on Illa. Atton suggested that they should get away from Telos a bit, and he picked Nar Shaddaa as their destination. He said he left a few things there that he wanted to pick up – and he might have mentioned something about an apartment with some unpaid bills that have been piling up since he joined up with the Exile. Illa planned to clear the place out and settle the debts, however, by the time they reached the Smuggler’s Moon she was completely drained. It has been some time since she went off world after all.

The next morning the Exile woke up to some strange smells. Or at least she thought it was the next morning. She spent a few minutes forcing her mind to wake up like the rest of her body. A chill rushed over her as she pushed the blanket aside, prompting her to get dressed hastily. Illa was still somewhat dazed when she started following the smell. She arrived at the kitchen which looked like a battlefield and found Atton there. He was busy stirring something that, from a distance, looked anything but appetizing.

‘Morning,’ Illa rubbed her eyes as she greeted her lover.

‘Hey, you’re up,’ Atton turned to her. ‘And here I thought I could…’ his line of thought was broken as his gaze fell on the Exile’s chest, ‘surprise you. Is that my shirt?’ he pointed at her clothes with his spoon.

‘Oh,’ she answered a moment later, inspecting the shirt, ‘looks like it is.’

‘Well… nice outfit, then,’ the scoundrel replied with a smile then reluctantly turned his attention back to the pot. He gripped his spoon just a little tighter.

‘So what are we having?’ Illa walked up to the pilot and looked at the dish. It was some sort of stew, that was all she could tell.

‘A Nar Shaddaa delicacy,’ Atton looked at her with pride. ‘It doesn’t look like much but after a rough day, or a rough journey, it’s the best thing to have.’

‘You just threw everything you found here into that pot, didn’t you?’

‘Not everything,’ the scoundrel answered somewhat offended, ‘just the stuff that is still edible. Trust me, you’re gonna love it,’ he added when he saw that the Exile’s expression showed no confidence in him.

Illa shook her head at Atton but she couldn’t repress her smile. She stepped behind him and wrapped her arms around his chest. She rested her forehead against his back and closed her eyes, trying to steal a couple more seconds of rest.

‘Dammit,’ she heard the pilot’s voice a few moments later.

‘What’s wrong, love?’ Illa asked looking at the pot over his shoulder.

‘Nothing, nothing,’ Atton cleared his throat, ‘I got this all under control,’ he rummaged through some of the ingredients he piled up on the side.

‘You’re a terrible cook.’

‘I can be a pretty decent cook, if I put my mind to it,’ he said as he peeled Illa’s hands off him and turned to face her, ‘but you are very distracting,’ he lifted her hands to his lips and left kisses on her palms.

‘Fair enough,’ the Exile took a few steps away from the scoundrel. She sat down on the floor and tried to meditate but before she could fully drift into a trance, she heard Atton curse again.

‘To hell with this,’ he said and a moment later Illa felt his lips on hers. She couldn’t help but smile as she kissed back. ‘Told you,’ he added when he pulled away to take the shirt off the Exile, ‘you’re too damned distracting,’ he claimed her lips again ravenously. Illa in turn wrapped her arms around his neck and laid back, pulling the pilot down with her, however, just as they got comfortable on the hard floor, she noticed a bitter stench filling the air.  
‘Please, tell me you turned off the stove,’ she pulled away and looked at the scoundrel disapprovingly. 

Atton groaned as he got out of her embrace and went back to the stove. Illa laughed as she waited for his return and came to the conclusion that their plans for their stay on Nar Shaddaa will have to be postponed again.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for a mental breakdown.
> 
> (also yes, chpater 25 is this chapter but fluffy)

It has been a long but successful day. The civil war on Onderon ended before it could have truly begun, Illa had a chance to talk to Master Kavar, and the time for answers was within her grasp. She was both excited and anxious as she chose the Ebon Hawk’s next destination, then she took the co-pilot’s seat with a tired but satisfied sigh. The Exile turned to Atton as he started up the ship’s engines next to her. He was unusually quiet, and at first, the pilot seemed lost in thought and exhausted. The longer Illa looked, however, the more troubled he seemed.

The Exile trusted Atton with the task of leading the team she left on Dxun. They were meant to assault a Sith base the Mandalorians discovered. Later she heard that the base was the tomb of Freedon Nadd and that the mission was a success. The scoundrel on the other hand hasn’t spoken of it, in fact he barely said anything since Illa returned from Onderon. He seemed like his usual, somewhat cocky self when he greeted her, but to the Exile it seemed clearer with each moment that the mission has taken some toll on him.

‘Atton, are you alright?’ she called out to him once the ship jumped to lightspeed.

The pilot looked at her with confusion, as if he only noticed her presence now. ‘Yeah… yeah, I’m okay.’

‘Are you sure about that? You look a bit… disoriented.’

‘I’m fine,’ he spoke the words into the empty air separating them, trying to convince both Illa and himself. However, the defiance in his voice gave his lie away.

The Exile walked over to Atton. He turned away from her when he saw her approaching and frowned at the controls ahead of him instead.

‘Did something happen on Dxun?’ Illa gently placed her hand on the pilot’s shoulder. ‘You know you can talk to me about it if you want to.’

‘But I don’t want to,’ he answered through gritted teeth. ‘We won, that’s all that matters.’

‘Atton…’

The scoundrel stood up and swept the Exile’s hand away before she could say anything else. He looked her dead in the eye and Illa saw anger seething in his gaze. But at the same time, she knew, she felt that his anger wasn’t directed at her. A split second later his expression softened and the rage in his eyes turned to sadness instead.

‘Back in that tomb… there were these places, these spots barely larger than a few square feet, where the Dark Side was stronger than anywhere else,’ he looked away from the Exile for a moment before he continued. ‘I reached out to it and then I couldn’t turn away.’

Illa blinked at him perplexed and concerned. Atton scoffed and stepped away from her. He paced up and down in the cockpit, scratching a spot on the back of his head.

‘Is this the part where you tell me that I let you down?’ he asked. ‘Save your lectures, there is nothing you can say that I haven’t told myself already.’

‘Atton, you haven’t let me down, what makes you think that you have?’

The scoundrel’s eyes widened for a second then brushed the comment off and kept pacing on.

‘Do you really think you failed me?’ Illa went on. ‘Or do you think you failed yourself?’

The Exile’s words stopped Atton in his tracks. He stooped slightly and let his head hang down in shame. He tried to ease the shaking of his hands by turning them into fists.

‘I… I’m tired of constantly fighting myself over everything. I just… wanted to prove myself. I thought that if I faced the Dark Side, if I was strong enough to fight it, then I…’ Atton stopped himself from going on. He bit his lip hard, trying to suppress the tears gathering in his eyes. ‘But I wasn’t strong enough,’ he laughed at himself as the first few tears rolled down his face, ‘I screwed up and I nearly jeopardized the whole damn mission because I had to act like a fucking idiot.’

Illa stepped to the pilot who couldn’t bring himself to look at her. She reached for his face and tried to gently raise his chin, to guide his gaze back to her.

‘Atton, you know this is not a battle that can be won so quickly,’ she said finally convincing the scoundrel meet her gaze, ‘and just because you feel defeated right now, doesn’t mean you have been defeated. The Dark Side has touched you but it hasn’t changed you. If you keep punishing yourself for it, you will only give it more power.’

‘I know,’ he mumbled.

‘You will have plenty of chances to prove yourself…’

‘I know,’ Atton rolled his eyes at her.

‘…and until then I’ll be here for you. Whenever you need me.’

The scoundrel was left speechless for a few seconds. ‘You’re pretty lenient for a Jedi Master, you know that?’

Illa shrugged, then opened her arms invitingly. Atton accepted the hug and buried his face in the curve of the Exile’s neck. His embrace was tight, he grasped at Illa’s clothes as if he was scared she would disappear. But she wasn’t planning on going anywhere. She slipped her fingers into the pilot’s hair and caressed his back with her other hand until she felt the last of the tears on her skin and Atton’s breathing was as slow as her strokes along his spine. A few moments later the scoundrel let go of Illa and left to wash his face, feeling a little less hopeless.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for that damned dancer's outfit.

’Look what I’ve found!’ Atton cried out cheerfully one day when he and Illa decided to clean up their apartment a little.

The Exile turned around only to see the scoundrel with a wide grin on his face, holding up a red and gold bra. Illa swallowed hard when she saw the piece of clothing and turned back to the workbench she was cleaning, trying to hide her face turning pale.

‘Oh, dear,’ she muttered to herself, preparing for the bombardment of teasing comments she knew was about to be unleashed on her.

‘You’ve been holding out on me, Illa,’ Atton said smugly, and the Jedi didn’t even need to turn around to know he was smirking at her.

‘Or simply I forgot I still had that damned outfit,’ she answered with forced dismissiveness that only provoked the scoundrel further.

‘Fair enough, but I still think we could make use of this…’

‘Don’t even think about it,’ Illa interrupted Atton somewhat snappily and turned to him.

‘Why not?’ the pilot laughed. ‘You were willing to put it on for a Hutt…’

Illa groaned as a response and crossed her arms in front of her. Atton stopped laughing then.

‘Wait,’ he approached the Exile, ‘are you mad at me?’

‘No…’ Illa lied, cursing herself for not paying closer attention to her feelings. ‘Maybe a little. You know I’m not proud of that,’ she took the bra from Atton’s hands and looked at it for a moment.

A few months ago, on Nar Shaddaa she wore that thing to distract Vogga, the Hutt, while Atton snuck into his vault. It was the Exile’s idea: Vogga had enough fuel to help Telos, but he was still a Hutt and Illa wasn’t sure she could trust him. The purpose behind the heist was to see what kind of… businessman he was. And to see what it took to make him honor an agreement, if necessary. The Exile knew that such insidiousness was unbecoming of a Jedi , and dancing for Vogga seemed like a fitting punishment then.

‘Sorry,’ Atton’s apology broke Illa’s line of thought, ‘I’m being an idiot. I just thought…’

Illa put the cloth on the workbench then placed a small kiss on the pilot’s cheek. ‘Don’t worry about. I… didn’t think it would be still such a sore subject with me. I mean it’s not the worst thing I’ve done…’

‘Hey, knock that off,’ Atton held the Exile’s face in his hands. He watched her silently for a few moments, reading her emotions from her face. Only when he glimpsed a tired smile, did he sigh in relief. ‘Listen,’ he said softly, ‘I know this pretty wise Jedi Master, who keeps telling me that I shouldn’t beat myself up for every little thing. Maybe you could listen to her this once.’

Illa let out a bittersweet chuckle and gently peeled the pilot’s hands off her face. ‘Maybe I could,’ she glanced at the workbench for a moment and sighed. ‘Your idea wasn’t all that unreasonable, come to think of it. Just… give me some time to warm up to it.’

‘You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.’

‘I know,’ the Exile said and leaned in for a soft and shallow kiss. Atton embraced her for a few moments before they turned back to their work and Illa spent the rest of the day trying to tidy up some of her feelings along with the apartment.


	18. Chapter 18

Atton had a bad feeling about the coming evening. He lay on his bed in the apartment the TSF used to detain him, the Exile and Kreia. The scoundrel looked to his side to see Illa sitting on her bed beside him and her master meditating beyond her.

The Exile busied herself by looking through the gear she reclaimed from the TSF. She agreed to see the Exchange on behalf of the Ithorians, even though she remembered the bounty the Exchange placed on her and all those who tried to claim it all too clearly. Illa was foolish enough to hope for smooth negotiations with the criminals but she wasn’t foolish enough to think it was likely to happen. She was foolish enough to meet them in the first place but she wasn’t foolish enough to go unprepared.

Illa looked up when she felt the pilot’s gaze on her. She smiled at him with warmth and kindness. He loved and hated that smile. It made him stupid, it made him wish for things he knew he didn’t deserve: namely, to see that same smile right before she fell asleep, right after she woke up, right by his side. Usually he would grin back at her, but Atton couldn’t shake the feeling that the Exile was setting herself up for a fall and he failed to hide his concern for her.

‘Is something wrong?’ Illa asked.

‘No,’ Atton turned his attention to a spot on the ceiling, ‘I’m good.’

‘I don’t believe you.’

The scoundrel glanced at the Exile for a moment. She watched him attentively, ready to listen to anything he had to say. Atton sighed as he sat up and turned to her.

‘I just don’t think that walking into the rancor’s den would be a smart move. If I had to guess, you’d be shot before you could say “Ithorian”.’

‘I find myself in agreement with the pilot for once,’ Kreia said, to Atton’s annoyance, just as Illa opened her mouth to answer. ‘It seems even imbeciles get a wise idea every once in a while.’

The Exile let out an exasperated sigh and looked at the empty air ahead of her for a few short moments. ‘I know what I’m walking into. But this needs to be done.’

‘Indeed, this will further some goals,’ Kreia mused, ‘but none of them are ours. You would be wise to choose your battles more carefully.’

‘I will, but I’ve already made my choice,’ Illa looked at her master over her shoulder, ‘please respect it the way I respect your counsel.’

Kreia didn’t answer nor did she show any indication that she heard what her pupil said. Atton leaned forward as an attempt to gain the Exile’s attention.

‘Before I say something that gets us another lecture,’ he whispered, ‘can we go somewhere where we can talk? In private?’

Illa gave him a grateful but cautious look. ‘Sure,’ she said a second later.

The two of them stood up and made their way outside the apartment. Atton stopped in the doorway and looked back at Kreia to make sure she didn’t follow them – physically or mentally. The old woman seemed to be meditating and while the pilot didn’t feel her touch on his mind, she still sent shivers down his spine. Once the door close behind him, he turned to the Exile who still looked to be willing to listen, but she also looked less eager and more anxious than before. Atton felt an urge to comfort her, to make her smile again somehow. He stepped closer to her but stopped himself from embracing her. Illa didn’t seem to be bothered by his closeness.

‘Sorry about that scene back there,’ the scoundrel pointed towards the apartment with his thumb, ‘but… there must be some way to get us off-planet without serving you to the Exchange on a silver platter.’

‘The Ithorians can help us find the Ebon Hawk, but I need to help them first,’ Illa explained. ‘I thought the course of action was clear.’

‘It is. I just think we should look for alternatives.’

The Exile furrowed her eyebrows. She didn’t need to say anything to show she was open to suggestions.

‘Booking a ride to Nar Shaddaa is pretty cheap and we have enough credits to afford it,’ Atton said.

‘What about the Ebon Hawk?’

‘Look, I want to get our ship back as much as you do, but we don’t exactly need it,’ the pilot reached for the Exile’s shoulder. ‘Stay here tonight and tomorrow we can book a shuttle to someplace safe where we can lay low until things blow over.’

Illa seemed a little stunned: her eyes widened as Atton spoke, and he couldn’t tell for certain, but he could almost see a faint blush on her cheeks. He stepped back, snatched his hand away from her and pretended he merely wanted to scratch his head. The Exile then blinked a few times, trying to regain her composure. She looked away from the pilot as she was contemplating an answer. For a brief moment she looked sad but when she turned back, there was only determination in her eyes.

‘I’ve been laying low for the last ten years. It’s time I stopped. I… I’m sorry.’

Atton acknowledged her declaration and her apology with a few small nods. She may have been an exile, but Illa was every bit as stubborn as any other Jedi. It was too much and too foolish to hope for her to be anything else.

‘However… I… I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to,’ the Exile quickly added. ‘If you don’t want to come along when I meet the Exchange, then you can stay here if you’d like. And I’ll help you find a way off Telos tomorrow, I promise,’ she smiled reassuringly at Atton again, but this time he only felt his heart sink.

‘You know what?’ the scoundrel chuckled at himself bitterly. ‘I’ll stick around a little longer… until you get the Ebon Hawk back. I… uh… I need to show that little trash compactor who he’s dealing with.’

Illa rolled her eyes at him but her smile didn’t fade.

‘Thank you, Atton. You don’t know how much this means to me,’ she said softly and went back to the apartment.

Atton followed her a moment later, cursing himself for getting stupid around her again. Maybe parting ways really was the smart move.  



	19. Chapter 19

Illa felt oddly bittersweet about wandering the streets of Iziz again. The war on Onderon ended before it could have truly started, but some of Vaklu’s followers weren’t ready to surrender like their leader did. They have caused a lot of damage to the city and the Exile wondered if it ever could be restored to the way it was. However, the people she came across were different: the suffocating atmosphere of the looming civil war was gone and the citizens of Iziz worked together, freely, to rebuild their homes.

The Exile arrived to the planet just a few hours before. Queen Talia wanted to celebrate the official end of the civil war with a banquet and she extended an invitation to Illa as well as her crew. Illa wanted to see the city first, however, and Atton offered to accompany her. The scoundrel said he never actually had been in the city, only had flown over it. The two of them walked side by side, with their fingers loosely intertwined, stopping for everyone who asked for their help. 

‘Excuse me, Master Jedi,’ a lanky and familiar figure reached out to them near the cantina, ‘could you… no way… Illa?’ the man rushed to the Exile.

‘Nikko, I’m glad to-‘ her answer ended in a small, surprised gasp as Nikko hugged her. She awkwardly got out of the embrace, ‘I’m glad to see you,’ she said and glanced at Atton. The pilot glared at the man, but shot a questioning look back at her when he felt her gaze on him. ‘Atton, this is Nikko, he helped me when I first came to Onderon.’

‘And you cleaned me out of my credits as thanks,’ Nikko teased. ‘I still haven’t met a pazaak player as fun as you.’

Atton looked at the Exile again and crossed his arms.

She ignored him and cleared her throat. ‘Nikko, this is Atton. I perfected my pazaak skills playing against him. He also helped me save Onderon,’ she looked at the pilot with adoration, ‘and he’s my boyfriend.’

The scoundrel’s expression softened as he addressed Nikko. ‘Nice to meet you,’ Illa heard a hint of pride in his voice.

‘Nice to meet you too,’ he answered with his usual cheer then turned his attention back to the Exile, ‘I guess, this means you won’t let me buy you a drink.’

‘No, I won’t. And if you want private lessons, you’ll have to join the Jedi Order.’

‘I’ll pass,’ Nikko laughed. ‘Look, I’ve been working on something in case you ever came back,’ he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wooden carving. He wiped some flinders off it and handed it to Illa.

‘Oh. Thank you, it’s…’ the Exile examined the carving of what seemed like a fish with something flat in its mouth, ‘it’s a pazaak shark! This is really sweet of you, Nikko.’

‘I’m glad you like it. Anyway, I was going to ask you if you could help with some debris at the clinic’s entrance before we got sidetracked.’

‘We’re on it,’ Illa answered, prompting Nikko to take his leave. He waved at Atton and the Exile as he walked away. Illa waved back then turned to the pilot who merely grinned at her smugly. ‘What is it?’

‘You’ve never introduced me as your boyfriend before.’

‘Well, I had to do something before you got overwhelmed by jealousy. Which is something you should guard yourself against,’ the Exile elbowed the scoundrel in the side gently.

‘I know, I’m working on it,’ Atton rolled his eyes at her as he rubbed the spot where she touched him. 

Illa shook her head but was unable to suppress her smile. She left a kiss on Atton’s cheek, then put the shark carving in her pocket and took her lover’s hand instead as they went on to clear some debris away.


	20. Chapter 20

There was only so much the healing trance could do. Illa felt her pain fade and flesh heal but the wound on her upper arm only turned narrower and shallower, it did not disappear. The Exile glanced at Mical as he treated her injury then turned her attention to Atton who simply observed, leaning against the wall by the entrance of the infirmary. The pilot shot a stern look at her when he felt her gaze on himself but Illa could see concern in his eyes.

It has only been a few minutes since the Exile and her team fled the Academy on Korriban. Once they got back to the Ebon Hawk, she asked Atton to set a course orbiting one of the other planets in the system. There was still a lot on the planet Illa wanted to investigate but she couldn’t risk Sion or his assassins following them. The pilot returned to her side as soon as he could and kept giving her that harsh but sorrowful look whenever she glanced at him, unaware of the fact that in doing so he gave her enough of a reason to feel worried about him too.

‘It seems we’ll have to turn to science for this one,’ Mical tried to reassure the Exile with a kind smile, ‘it’s nothing some kolto can’t fix,’ he added as he went to his lab station.

Illa looked at Atton. ‘See? Everything’s going to be alright.’

The scoundrel’s expression softened but not enough to ease her worries.

‘How did you get injured anyway?’ the Disciple asked as he prepared a healing pack.

‘How do you think?’ Atton interjected bitterly.

‘Well, it looks like a lightsaber inflicted wound-‘

‘You don’t s-‘

‘We ran into one of the Sith Lords hunting us,’ Illa decided to stop the argument before it could truly begin and before Atton could take his frustration out on Mical. ‘We fought him but we weren’t truly ready for him. When we realized we couldn’t defeat him we retreated. We made it out in one piece and we will be fine,’ she emphasized her last words as she turned to the scoundrel.

Atton merely scoffed as a response. He didn’t wait for the Disciple to finish patching Illa up. Later she found him at his usual spot in the cockpit, gazing at the stars, still seething with anger.

‘Are you alright?’ the Exile stopped a few steps away from his seat, prompting the pilot to stand up from his chair and walk up to her.

‘I should be the one asking that.’

‘I’m fine, Atton. I was only grazed.’

Atton gave her a nod. For a moment Illa sensed sadness inside him but she also got a weak feeling of… dread. The same dread she saw reflected on his face as she stepped between him and Darth Sion. When the Sith Lord realized the Exile could hold her own against him, he targeted her student. She blocked his strike but the lightsaber slid off of her own and touched her upper arm. Illa gently scratched her bandaged wound as she remembered.

Atton reached for Illa’s arm as well. ‘Does it hurt?’ he asked as his fingers softly brushed against the bandages. She shook her head with a reassuring smile but it was clear that the pilot didn’t believe her. The Exile caught a glimpse of anger and guilt in his eyes just as he glanced away from her. ‘I warned you,’ he forced the words out of himself, ‘a Sith will always target the padawan first. This is a weakness they always exploit. I warned you and you still fell for it.’

‘You are not a weakness, Atton.’

The scoundrel’s eyes widened as he looked back at the Exile. His rage seemed to fade and only pain remained. The pain of the teachings of his past clashing with his hopes for the present. Illa reached for his face with trembling hands and pulled him closer. She let him rest his forehead against hers and caressed his cheek with her thumb.

‘You give me hope,’ she whispered. ‘You have no idea… I will keep saving you until you find hope as well. I will keep saving you because you’re worth saving. You’re worth the risk. I… I care about you more than I fear those standing against us.’

Atton let out a short and bitter laugh. He reached for Illa’s hands on his face and pressed them against himself before he peeled them off, locking his fingers with hers as he did so.

‘You’re crazy. Even for a Jedi,’ he said as he claimed the Exile’s lips.

Illa could almost taste the pilot’s fears easing – or maybe she merely felt her heart growing full to bursting for him. At that moment, everything seemed distant, even the fresh memory of her injury. Whatever risks she had just taken were worth it. This was one of the few things she had no doubt about.


	21. Chapter 21

’Illa, can I ask you something?’ Atton called out to the Exile as she collected her pazaak cards from the table. The two of them played all evening, however Illa got the sense that something troubled the pilot, something that persisted throughout their long game.

‘Anything,’ she answered with a reassuring smile.

The scoundrel took a deep breath as he tried to find the right words. ‘You know what? Forget it,’ he shook his head with a tired smile a few moments later. He picked up his cards as well and stood up from the table. ‘It’s pretty late anyway,’ he turned to leave.

The Exile’s heart sank. She could feel Atton’s tension resonating within her and the more she focused on it, the clearer it became: this was more than mere stress. She felt a suffocating knot of exhaustion, hatred and, above all, fear. Intense, debilitating fear. Illa exhaled as she fought the feeling. Her breath was staggered and she noticed that her hands started shaking.

‘Atton, wait!’ she called out to the pilot before he could leave the central chamber of the Ebon Hawk. He turned back to her with an expression on his face that somehow looked both questioning and knowing. ‘Whatever it is that troubles you, you can tell me about it.’

Atton sighed. ‘I don’t think it’s the right idea. I shouldn’t have said anything.’

Illa stood up and walked up to the scoundrel. She reached out for his shoulder and slowly ran her hand down his arm.

‘Then,’ she let out a frustrated sigh, ‘just… take my bed. Get some proper rest for a change,’ she said, resigned. She couldn’t help the pilot if he didn’t let her.  
‘Only if you come with the bed,’ Atton crossed his arms with a challenging smirk.

A faint blush spread on the Exile’s cheek. She glanced at her feet for a moment. ‘Fine,’ she said as she looked back at Atton with determination. ‘I’ll do it.’

The smirk disappeared from the pilot’s face. ‘I was only bluffing.’

‘I’m not. I want you… us…’ she corrected herself, ‘to get a good night’s sleep. At the very least.’

Atton stepped closer to Illa. ‘Careful what you wish for-’

‘You know what I mean.’

‘I know,’ Atton laughed bitterly. ‘You’re not gonna let this go, are you?’

Illa didn’t say anything, just shook her head defiantly. He answered with an exasperated sigh and moved past her towards the port dormitory. She stepped to the table and picked up her pazaak deck as she followed him. Atton quickly looked around as he entered the room, then stepped to the Exile’s bunk hesitantly. She arrived a few moments later, stashed away her cards, then shot an encouraging glance at him.

‘I don’t think we’re gonna fit in that,’ Atton gestured at the bed.

Illa picked out her oversized shirt she used as a nightgown. ‘We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,’ she said as she turned away from the pilot and started undressing. By the time she changed into the shirt, Atton stripped to his tank top and underwear as well. For a moment the Exile allowed her gaze to scour his body then quickly slipped into the bed as an attempt to distract herself from the sight. She laid on her side with her back pressed against the wall, trying to give the scoundrel as much space as she could.

Atton laid down as well, at first facing Illa, but the harsh white lights built into the walls of the ship clearly bothered him. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled and gave the Exile as much of an apologetic look as he could while squinting at the lights then turned his back on her. Illa didn’t mind – her gaze traced the curve of his neck, and wandered along his shoulder and upper arm. She glimpsed a few scars here and there, both old and new. She felt an urge to reach out for them, to cure them with her healing trance, or if there was nothing to be done, then at least give him some comfort.

‘Atton?’ Illa called out to him softly.

‘Hmm?’

‘Can I touch you?’

Atton didn’t answer immediately. ‘Yeah,’ his reply was barely louder than a whisper. The Exile placed her hand between his shoulder blades and slowly moved it outward, as she focused on healing him through the Force. To her surprise, the pilot lifted his arm slightly when she reached his shoulder. She slipped her hand under his arm and pulled herself closer to him. She eventually rested her hand on his chest and her forehead against his shoulder. He in turn took the hand resting above his heart and held onto it gently.

‘Your heart beats so fast,’ Illa whispered, watching goosebumps form where her breath touched Atton’s skin. ‘Tell me what troubles you. Ask me what you wanted to ask,’ she pleaded.

The scoundrel sighed and gave the Exile’s hand a little squeeze. ‘I… you remember that Jedi I told you about? The one who showed me the Force?’ He spoke as if every word he said weighed him down immensely. 

‘Of course.’

‘Do you think that… that a Sith could undo what she did to me? That someone could get in my head and make me… that killer again? Just like that?’

‘Atton… that Jedi didn’t change you, she merely granted you awareness to the Force and insight into the Light Side. You decided what to do with these things… on your own. If a Sith attempted to use this technique on you, I doubt it would work. You know the Dark Side and you’ve turned away from it before. You can do it again.’

The pilot scoffed. ‘You trust me that much?’

‘I’m letting you fly the ship, am I not?’

The reply made Atton laugh. ‘I’ll ask you again the next time someone tries to blast us off the sky.’

Now it was Illa’s turn to chuckle. She felt the tension ease within the scoundrel and she couldn’t help but smile at that. She was tempted to leave the topic at that, to let the comfort of choice and independence lull the pilot into a deep slumber. But a part of her still felt a sting of faint anxiety deep within herself. She realized this was not a distant resonance but her own feelings clawing at her.

‘Still…’ she said and she already regretted it, ‘you need to be careful. There are many paths that could lead you to the Dark Side.’

‘I know, I know,’ there was slight mockery in Atton’s voice. ‘I should watch my emotions more carefully…’

‘That’s not what I meant, I…’ Illa felt her cheeks burn in shame. ‘It’s entirely possible I would be the one to turn you. Not on purpose, of course, but…’

‘Who filled your head with that bantha crap?’

‘No one, I just… the last time I went to war, I was so sure of myself. So certain that everything I did was to save lives. Maybe not then and not there but… I was saving lives, or so I kept telling myself,’ she forced the last words out of herself along with the venom that tainted them. It has been a long time since she spoke of these feelings, even though she felt their touch upon herself almost every day. ‘It took me Malachor to realize what I was becoming… if I blind myself like that again what would it take to…?’

‘That’s not gonna happen,’ Atton did not let her finish. He peeled her hand off his chest and turned around to embrace her. ‘That’s not gonna happen,’ he repeated, softly, right against the Exile’s ear.

‘You trust me that much?’

‘Yeah… yeah, I do,’ the pilot said and tightened the hug as much as he could as they lay. ‘I guess, this is the tricky part, huh? Facing the past without repeating it?’

‘It really is,’ Illa let out a bitter but relieved laugh, ‘I promise I’ll try harder to make it easier for you.’

‘Like you’re doing it now?’

‘Oh dear, no,’ the Exile was glad Atton couldn’t see her face in the embrace. ‘I was supposed to help you here, I’m sorry.’

‘Hey, don’t be. You are helping me,’ the scoundrel pulled away a little so he could look Illa in the eye. ‘This does feel pretty good,’ he said prompting her to flash a tired smile at him. ‘And I… uh… I want to make this easier for you too.’

Illa buried her face in curve of Atton’s neck and slipped her fingers into his hair. She caressed his dark strands gently as she melted into his embrace. ‘That means a lot to me, Atton. I… I don’t think I can put it into words.’

‘Well, that’s… good to hear,’ he replied, ‘but uh… do you think we could swap places? Because I can’t sleep with that light in my face.’

The Exile chuckled as they tried to find a comfortable position for the next several minutes. Eventually they drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep, still holding on to each other and to the peace they offered to one another.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for alcohol consumption.

Illa found the air aboard the Ebon Hawk strangely cool after being exposed to bonfires on the fields of Dantooine. The people of Khoonda celebrated their victory over the mercenaries with festivities out in the open and they insisted the Exile would join them along with her crew. However no one could truly foresee how far the settlers could go when it came to drinking, and while Illa was immune to toxins, her friends did not have such a benefit.

‘This is unns… unness… I don’t need this,’ Atton said, holding on to the Exile’s shoulder as she supported him up the ship’s ramp.

‘Well, I will need you with a clear head tomorrow,’ Illa replied and tightened her hold around the scoundrel’s waist when he stumbled slightly at the edge of the ramp. ‘I would prefer if my pilot didn’t fly hungover.’  
Atton scoffed. ‘I can fly just fine hungover,’ he sounded offended.

‘Oh? Is it fun?’

‘Nope.’

Illa couldn’t help but chuckle at that and a second later she heard Atton laugh back at her. She couldn’t recall the last time she heard him laugh with such honesty. She guided him to the nearest bunk as her nostrils filled with the scent of leather, smoke and juma juice.

‘All yours,’ she said as she freed herself from the scoundrel’s hold and stepped away from him. For a split second she saw his hand reach out for the spot where she stood just a moment ago, only to grab the empty air. His face reflected nothing but disappointment until he looked around and found Illa standing a few steps away from him. Then he laughed again, this time at himself, bitterly. He clumsily removed his jacket and threw it at the ground in frustration. He sighed when he looked at his shoes. 

The pilot took a step closer to the bunk and leaned against it while he tried to kick his shoes off. Just as one of them came off, he slipped and fell on the bed, hitting his head against the top of the bunk. Illa sprung to his aid. She knelt on the bed and reached behind Atton’s head, already entering the healing trance. He groaned, blinking at her, slowly realizing her closeness. The scoundrel lost himself in her eyes for a moment, then his gaze wandered to the Exile’s lips. He pushed himself up, trying to close the distance between them, but Illa pulled away from him.

‘No, Atton, this… this isn’t right,’ she stood up from the bed, tracing her lips with her fingers, right where the pilot’s breath touched her.

‘Yeah… you’re right,’ Atton let out a resigned sigh. ‘This was never right,’ he curled up on the bed, with one shoe still on his foot. Illa sat down next to him, trying to help him with it.

‘No, that’s not what I…’ she dragged off the shoe and dropped it beside the bed. ‘Maybe you should ask me again when you’re not completely drunk,’ she said ignoring the heat rising in her cheeks.

‘I am not compleeetely drunk,’ Atton corrected her with a hazy but smug grin that disappeared a moment later. ‘Still, it… it wouldn’t be right,’ he shook his head.

Illa watched the pilot for a few seconds. She couldn’t help but sense… pain behind those words. ‘Why do you say that?’ she asked cautiously.

‘Because… you’re an angel,’ his reply was breathless… adoring even. Suddenly the Exile felt she couldn’t stand his gaze.

‘I’m… no, I’m not,’ Illa looked at her hands, her heart sinking at the sight of imaginary blood. ‘I’m really not.’

‘You are to me.’

Illa looked back at the pilot. She shook her head as she smiled at him.

‘That’s just the juma juice talking, isn’t it?’

‘Maybe,’ Atton chuckled. ‘But it doesn’t matter. You’re an angel and I’m…’ he stopped himself and turned his gaze away from her in shame. ‘I’m… lying to you. That’s why you like me.’

The Exile furrowed her brows. ‘I… I doubt that’s the case.’

The pilot scoffed bitterly at her. ‘If you knew the truth, you would hate me. Nothing to doubt about that.’

‘Well,’ Illa let out an exhausted laugh, ‘maybe when you’re not completely drunk, we can talk about it.’

‘I’m not…’ Atton blinked at her with heavy eyelids.

‘I know,’ the Exile stood up. ‘Rest it out, Atton. You deserve it.’

The scoundrel groaned defiantly as he watched Illa leave him alone with his painful and drowsy thoughts.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for war flashbacks, suicidal thoughts, and Kreia's death.

The echo of Atton’s footsteps melded with the thunders of Malachor V. He was no longer sure if he was moving or if he still stood frozen at the entrance of Trayus Core. When he glimpsed Illa lying in the center of the hall next to Kreia, his heart and mind went blank, with only a distant memory filling him up to the point of being overwhelming. The memory of him flying over Malachor as the Mass Shadow Generator was first activated. The memory of fire, smoke, the controls of his fighter going haywire, panic and desperation getting the better of him as he rerouted all power into the engines, the defiant cry he let out as he directed the ship towards what he assumed was up. The memory of feeling trapped and motionless in the grey cage of smoke and metal, the memory of time and space becoming meaningless for a few moments.

And now the pilot felt it all again.

Atton ran across the bridge leading to the red heart of Trayus Core and knelt next to the Exile. She still held on to her lightsaber and she seemed to be unharmed. The scoundrel then turned to Kreia. There was a slightly darker spot on her black robe – the mark left by the lightsaber that stabbed her through the heart. Atton turned his attention back to Illa and placed his fingers on her throat.

‘Come on, don’t do this to me,’ he hissed, when he felt a weak, unsteady pulse. ‘Just… let go of her. Cut the bond,’ he received no reply. He turned to Kreia then. ‘Cut the fucking bond!’ 

The old witch lay there dead and smiling, almost as if she was still mocking him. Atton groaned and looked back at Illa. He made his best effort at the healing trance as he caressed her hair with his free hand.

‘Illa, please. Don’t give up on me now. It’s almost over.’

The scoundrel’s thoughts drifted to another memory: of another Jedi dying in his arms, with his hand around her throat. He was so full of fear and anger then and she had nothing but love for him… for everyone. She should not have died. Atton has been trying to be a person worthy of her sacrifice but as he knelt in the heart of Malachor… at that very moment… he could not even recall her face. He only saw Illa.

‘This isn’t fair. I was supposed to save you!’ Atton let out a pained yell and scolded himself from getting distracted from the healing meditation. He was harsher with himself than the Exile would have been. ‘Let me help you now, please. Just… wake up. Let’s get outta here.’

Illa laid still. She almost looked peaceful against the pilot’s shaky hands.

‘Fine. You wanna play dirty? Huh?’ Atton said. If Illa heard what he was about to say, she would have gotten so angry at him… but only for a few seconds before she calmed the two of them down. He could not help but chuckle at the thought ruefully. ‘How’s this for a deal: if you’re not leaving, I’m not lea-‘

The Exile stirred before he could finish. She opened her eyes a few seconds later, although it took her sight longer to adjust.

‘Atton?’ she asked then looked around still somewhat dazed. The pilot sighed with relief, leaning over the Exile’s chest. He let his forehead rest against her collarbone and let out an exhausted laugh. Then he straightened his back as he regained his composure.

‘Yeah, I’m here. How are you feeling?’

‘I don’t know,’ Illa answered while gazing at Kreia lying next to her. Her face reflected grief but when she turned to the pilot she seemed almost as relieved as he was. ‘But I… I saw the future, Atton. We’re going to be alright,’ she said with a smile.

‘Well, we won’t be if we don’t get moving,’ Atton said with faked pessimism then helped the Exile up. He fought the urge to embrace her and set out to leave instead.

Atton only managed to take a few steps before Illa caught up to him. She took his hand as she walked next to him. The pilot was not sure if he felt her hand tremble or his own. He saw tears gather in her eyes when he glanced at her, and she turned to him when she felt his gaze on her. The Exile flashed a tired smile at him and held on to his hand a little more tightly as they left the Trayus Academy behind for good.


	24. Chapter 24

It has been a strange few days. Atton watched the blue swirls on the way to M4-78, trying to sort out the whirlpool of his own feelings, His thoughts kept drifting back to the kiss he shared with the Exile after they left the Sith academy on Korriban. The sensation of Illa’s lips against his has been etched into his memories, leaving a feeling of warmth and peace in the back of his mind. The pilot got the impression that she liked the kiss as well. However the next days she asked not to go any further than that, at least not for a while.

The Exile said she needed time to get a better grasp on her emotions, to ensure her affection for the scoundrel would not be twisted by war. But as long as she was busy fighting the Sith and training all her students, she did not have this time. Atton found her request reasonable. A part of him even thought she was too generous with him, that he shouldn’t have let things between them develop to the point they have. That it would’ve been best if they stayed friends.

But that kiss… felt too good, it meant too much for him not to want more. And each time the pilot caught a glimpse of Illa’s promise in her eyes or heard it in her voice, he only felt quiet glee and anticipation.

Atton smiled faintly to himself as he stood up from his seat and set out to the bathroom of the ship. He thought his thoughts could flow more freely under the refresher where he didn’t need to restrain the desires his memories evoked. Just as he reached for the controls of the bathroom door, it opened and Illa stepped out, barely missing the scoundrel. She wore nothing but a towel wrapped around her and she gathered her damp hair on one side, just the way she did when they first met on Peragus. It made the pilot smile.

‘Oh, hey there,’ the Exile greeted him, returning the smile, as she tried to push past him. The pilot had the same idea, however, and they bumped into each other. Atton stepped to the other side of the corridor, trying to give her room to move, but he only ended up blocking her path once again. Illa laughed at their clumsiness and placed her hands on his arms. She gently guided him to one side as she stepped to the other until Atton ended up standing with his back towards the bathroom entrance and she was free to go anywhere else on the ship.

However, the Exile didn’t leave.

Illa let her gaze explore the scoundrel’s face until it settled on his lips. She slid her hands up his arms and his neck, finally cupping his face. Atton, without thinking, reached for her waist and pulled her closer. She closed the gap between them a moment later. The pilot kissed back instinctively before he realized what was happening. Once he did, he pulled away in surprise.

‘I’m sorry,’ the Exile’s hands darted to her mouth and she looked at Atton with her eyes showing nothing but guilt. ‘I should not have done that.’

‘Don’t be sorry, it’s fine, really,’ the scoundrel shook off his initial surprise and pulled her close again. ‘Hell, it’s… more than fine,’ he said as he claimed her lips. He could almost taste her relief as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

‘I love kissing you,’ Illa sighed breaking their kiss.

‘I l-‘ Atton stopped himself when he processed the Exile’s words, the words he wanted to echo back at her. He pulled away and looked at her with wonder. ‘You said “love”.’

Illa blinked at him slightly confused. For a moment she looked like as if her words were nothing but a meaningless slip and that she was going to take them back. But once that moment passed her lips slowly curled to a radiant smile.

‘I suppose I did,’ she laughed. ‘That’s not a problem, is –‘

Atton pulled her on his lips again. He tightened his embrace and took a few steps back, dragging Illa into the bathroom. She blindly reached for the door’s controls and closed it, the pilot then pressed her body against the door. He fought the urge to let his hands wander by grasping at the towel on the Exile’s back and kissing her harder and more and more ravenously with each passing second. Illa, however, insisted on keeping her slow, gentle pace. She eased his scorching passion with her soothing serenity and satiated his hunger with her tenderness. By the time they broke the kiss, Atton’s breathing calmed, although his heart still beat fast for the Exile.

‘I do love kissing you,’ Illa whispered. The pilot enjoyed the sensation of her breath against his lips.

‘I… I feel the same,’ he answered. A part of him felt that his words were inadequate but he couldn’t bring himself to express his feelings as they were meant to. The scoundrel left a trail of kisses on Illa’s exposed shoulder who in turn laughed softly against his ear. ‘Right now,’ Atton continued, ‘I could just… pull you into that ‘fresher and kiss every damned drop of water off you.’

‘Tempting,’ the Exile gently pushed him away, ‘but no. I… we had an agreement.’

‘Yeah… I remember. I just thought…’

‘Yes, I know,’ Illa’s voice rang with guilt, ‘I should have kept my word. I just…’

‘Love kissing me?’ Atton teased her with a smug grin.

The Exile rolled her eyes at him but she still smiled. ‘Don’t let it go to your head,’ she said as she tightened the towel wrapped around her. She left the scoundrel alone who went on to take the longest cold shower he had in a while.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (like I said, chapter 18 but fluffly)

It’s been a truly eventful day. Illa walked up the ramp of the Ebon Hawk, squeezing rainwater out of her hair, and smiled to herself over the victory on Onderon. Atton and Kreia followed her – the old master walked right past her student, the pilot however stopped beside her. He looked like as if he wanted to tell her something important, but at the same time there was a smile lurking in the corner of his lips and a spark in his eyes that was both beautiful and only vaguely familiar to the Exile.

‘Did something happen out there?’ Illa asked. ‘You seem calmer than-‘

Atton embraced her before she could finish. The Exile returned the hug and tried to melt into it the best she could but the touch of the scoundrel’s soaked shirt against her own wet robes left her shivering.

‘Yeah,’ the pilot replied eventually, ‘there’s something I wanna discuss,’ he pulled slightly away but he still rubbed her back gently, ‘but I guess it would be better if we didn’t freeze to death in the process.’ 

He let go of Illa reluctantly and the two of them parted ways for the few minutes it took them to change into something dry. The Exile set out to the cockpit still trying to war herself up but she felt an eagerness she hadn’t experience in a long time. The pilot’s joy was contagious, its resonance tangled with the glee she felt over her own triumph, but most of all she was simply happy she had the chance to share this feeling with the scoundrel.

Atton stood up from his seat when the Exile reached the cockpit. He walked up to her as she approached him and once she got within arm’s reach, he took her face in his hands and claimed her lips. Illa was caught by surprise but the feeling dissipated a moment later and she kissed back.

‘Sorry, I had to,’ Atton apologized as he pulled away. He left one of his hands cupping her cheek and ran the other down her neck and her arm until he reached her hand. He took it cautiously.

‘It’s alright,’ Illa peeled his hand off her face and kissed his palm. The pilot gave her a tired and relieved smile but she could still see the spark she noticed earlier in his eyes. She found it almost mesmerizing. ‘I’m just glad to see you so calm and… happy.’

The scoundrel’s smile faded for the moments he spent contemplating the Exile’s words but it soon reappeared. 

‘Happy? I… I guess I am happy,’ he laughed and Illa laughed with him.

‘May I ask what happened?’ She asked although a part of her would have preferred enjoying the feelings he evoked in her in silence.

‘Yeah, I was gonna tell you, I just… got a bit distracted,’ he stepped away trying to collect his thougts but he still held onto the Exile’s hand loosely. ‘Did the Mandalorians fill you in on what happened?’

‘I know you went to the tomb of Freedon Nadd. It must have been hard to fight there, if I knew…’

‘It was fine,’ Atton interrupted Illa, ‘it worked out better than I ever would’ve guessed,’ he let out a bittersweet chuckle as he remembered. ‘You’re right, the Dark Side was pretty damn strong there. I felt it around me, trying reach inside me… and I thought I’d reach back.’

The Exile furrowed her brows as she listened. ‘Always the gambler, I see.’

‘I guess I am, but that’s not the point: it paid off. I looked right into that darkness, so deep I couldn’t even tell if it was the tomb or it was me. And it had no power over me,’ the scoundrel glanced at the hand he was holding before he continued, ‘I felt that place pulling at that… emptiness I left behind but I could never forget. But I stayed as I am.’ He lifted Illa’s hand and placed on his chest, right over his heart. ‘I felt the Force the way you taught me: separated from war…’

‘Separated from hate,’ the Exile finished the sentence.

‘Yeah… it’s kinda hard to explain but I feel like I proved something to myself there.’

‘I know exactly what you mean,’ Illa left a kiss on Atton’s cheek. She recalled a faint memory from ten years before – a spark tangled in sorrow and anger. The emotion she felt as she took the first steps away from the Jedi Temple as an exile: a slight sense of certainty, a weak semblance of faith, a flickering ray of hope – not rooted in teachings or leaders or ideas but in herself. It took her years to truly grasp that feeling and turn it into a foundation of something she could rely on. At that moment she recognized that same spark in Atton’s eyes and that realization sent a pleasant shiver down her body.

‘You’re shaking again,’ Atton stepped closer to Illa, ‘are you warm enough?’ He wrapped her in his arms before she could answer.

‘I am,’ she laughed, trying to hold back her tears of joy and the shaking of her hand. ‘I’m just so proud of you.’

‘I had a good teacher,’ he hummed against the Exile’s ear. ‘So… thanks. For everything,’ he said as he tightened his embrace.

Illa didn’t answer. She merely closed her eyes and allowed herself to be swept up by her joyful pride, Atton’s newfound strength and their shared happiness.


	26. Chapter 26

‘That was almost good,’ Illa spun her dulled blade, panting. ‘Your movements are a bit stiff though,’ she said as she lunged forward.

The Exile and Atton spent the last hour dueling. Illa felt the usual rush and comfort that overcame her whenever she exercised with the scoundrel, he on the other hand seemed to be rather tense. Atton was able to defend himself and even to launch some counter-attacks but she saw a slight stagger in his motion whenever he blocked a strike and his blows were not as quick and clean as usual.

‘Atton, you need to loosen up,’ Illa warned him after a barely successful parry. 

'I know,’ he groaned and took a step back cautiously. 'This is as good as it gets.’

'I’m serious, Atton, you could get hurt.’

The pilot merely shrugged. 'I can handle it. Don’t worry about me.’

The Exile frowned at his stubbornness. 'Alright then,’ she answered somewhat bitterly and charged.

Atton lifted his blade defensively, and in turn, Illa dropped hers. She closed the distance before he could react and grabbed his wrist. It only took her a slight twist after that to disarm him. The pilot hissed and tapped on her hand, signalling his surrender.

'That was supposed to be painless, you know,’ Illa said as she let him go and kicked aside his blade lying on the floor. She ran her hands up along Atton’s arms, trying to get a sense of the tension built up in his muscles.  
'It’s nothing. My neck hurts a bit, that’s all.’

'I’d say, it’s more than just your neck,’ the Exile replied, 'this is what happens when you refuse to sleep in a proper bed.’ She instinctively pressed against the fibers on the back of Atton’s neck.  
The scoundrel blinked at her, surprised.

'Uuhh… What are you doing?’

'I’m trying to give you a massage, but it would be simpler if you lay down,’ Illa let go of him and pointed at the floor.

'Okay,’ Atton answered with a smirk hiding in the corners of his lips, 'just checking.’ He turned his attention to the floor before he reached for his shirt. 'It should come off, right?’

Illa gave him a nod. The pilot chuckled but she heard a hint of nervousness mixed into his amusement. He pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor. He smoothed it after he got on his knees, then he lay down on it. He spent a few moments trying to get comfortable lying on his stomach then he glanced at the Exile. The inviting warmth in his gaze caught her off guard. She rubbed her cheek as she knelt beside Atton, trying to hide the blush spreading on her face.

'I’m sorry,’ Illa said as she reached for Atton’s neck again. 'I don’t have anything to rub on your back. I don’t know where we could get a-’

'I do,’ Atton flinched when the Exile touched a particularly tense knot on his shoulder. 'We could stop by the Red Sector the next time we go to Nar Shaddaa.’

Illa’s blush took a deeper shade. 'We… don’t need anything fancy. This is an issue of fitness, not sensuality.’

'It’s a bit if both if you ask me,’ the scoundrel made an attempt at shrugging, 'now that you mention it… where did you even learn this? It feels damn good.’

'Jedi training’ the Exile placed her palms between Atton’s shoulder blades and placed gentle pressure on him until he let out a soft groan. She repeated this again and again as she worked her way down along his spine. 'Tension can lead to injuries, so we were taught how to alleviate it.’

'Wow, the Jedi were okay with this? Despite the whole no sex, no attachments deal?’ The pilot laughed in disbelief. 'Wait… You do know that this is… pretty much seen as lap dancing in some places, right?’

'I do know of that, yes,’ Illa sighed. 'I just never really treated it that way,’ her reply was met with a few moments of silence. 'We were taught not to,’ she added.

'And you’re saying no one ever had the idea of exploring sexy side of anatomy… and blowing off steam?’

'Of course, not. We’re not above feeling passion,’ the Exile’s touched turned gentler when she reached a spot covered by an old scar, 'there were always people who… wanted to reintroduce intimacy into their lives,’ she was surprised by the wistfulness of her own tone.

'But not you.’

'No.’

'No lust for adventure?’

'I went to war against the wishes of the Council, how much more adventurous do you want me to be?’ Illa joked slightly ruefully.

'Fair point,’ Atton laughed. 

'And after that I…’ the Exile wasn’t sure how to explain that strange and painful duality that tore at her during her years of wandering. That urge to keep going while wanting nothing more than an anchor. 'It doesn’t matter,’ she realized her hands started to tire. 'What about you? I suppose you had some experience with… massages.’

'None that felt this good,’ Illa couldn’t see the scoundrel’s face but she could easily imagine a soft but cocky smile.

'You’re flattering… wait,’ the Exile pulled back and sat on her heels. She let her hands drop in her lap. 'What do you mean by that exactly?’

Atton gave her a side glance then he pushed himself up to the same kneeling position Illa took. 'If you’re worried you got me feeling something with this little back rub of yours then… trust me, it’s nothing that hasn’t already been there.’

Illa didn’t answer, she felt the heat rising in her cheeks again but she merely watched the pilot who still looked at her with barely noticeable invitation. She couldn’t help but glance at his lips for a short moment.

'Okay, that’s not true,’ Atton continued. 'You gotta teach me that, I…’ he reached behind his neck, enjoying the feeling of his relaxed fibers. 'I need to return the favor.’

'This was not really a favor,’ the Exile made a weak attempt at a protest. 'And you definitely don’t need to return this.’

'But I want to,’ Atton sounded strangely serious even though his lips still curled to a smile. 'I… I just wanna take care of you. I think it’s about time someone did that,’ he cautiously reached for the hand lying in the Exile’s lap and gave it a gentle squeeze. He stood up after that and reached for his blade through the Force. 'Besides… no offense but you look a bit stiff,’ he joked, 'that could get dangerous if you’re not careful.’

Illa rolled her eyes at him, smiling, and got up. 'You know what else could get dangerous if you’re not careful?’ She flicked her fingers and the pilot’s shirt flew in his face. 'Messiness.’

They laughed and after a few moments of preparation, they continued their sparring in a lot more relaxed manner.


	27. Chapter 27

Illa found something oddly relaxing about disassembling lightsabers. At first, a part of her felt sorry about the fact that she couldn’t grant their wielders the courtesy of leaving their blades by their side, but often this opportunity wasn’t granted. And lightsaber parts were hard to come by. She told herself that this way there was still hope for rebirth amids all the tragedy. That the padawans of a future order could quite literally rely on the Jedi of the past - and occasionally the Sith as well. After the battle over Telos, there were quite a few weapons she could salvage and after everything that happened at Malachor, the Exile could use the distraction.  
Illa was just about to be done putting away the salvaged saber parts, when she heard a voice calling out to her.

‘Wait, I got one more!’ Atton walked up to her. ‘Unless you wanna turn in early,’ he said with a smirk and left a kiss on her cheek.

The Exile chuckled as a response. 'One more wouldn’t take much time,’ she reached out with an open palm, 'especially in pleasant company.’

The pilot pulled out a lightsaber and placed it in Illa’s hand with a smile. The Exile’s heart, however, sank when she gave the blade a closer look. She gave it to him during the battle on the Citadel Station, right before she departed with Visas and Mandalore to face Darth Nihilus. She made the decision on a whim and she hasn’t thought of it much since.

Strange, considering how long she wanted to reclaim it from Atris.

'I…’ the Exile wasn’t sure what to do, or say. 'Did it help?’ She asked eventually. 'During the battle? And on Malachor…?’

Atton’s smile faded. He spent a moment reading the Exile’s face. 'Yeah. Yeah, it did.’ His answer was sincere and reassuring.

Illa nodded as an acknowledgement and placed the lightsaber on the workbench. She merely stared at it for a while, occasionally glancing at the hydrospanner next to it.

'What’s going on?’ The pilot placed his hand on the small of her back and caressed her with his thumb.

'Nothing. I just… don’t feel like taking this one apart.’ Illa looked at Atton who watched her intently. She thought back to the last moment they shared before she set out for the Ravager. She thought of how she felt trying to find him on Malachor. Something about what the scoundrel said earlier sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. A moment later she felt its resonance in the pilot, just as his expression softened ever so slightly. 'I’m starting to think… maybe you should have it back.’

'I thought you wanted us to build our own lightsabers,’ he replied. 'Come to think of it, it did feel nice to have two. I might just occupy that workbench after you.’

'Take this one then,’ Illa picked up the blade and offered it to him. 'I… I really like the thought of you having it,’ she tried to ignore the heat rising in her cheeks.

'Wait a minute,’ Atton took the saber and stepped back. He ignited it, and watched the beam with a thoughtful frown. Illa was almost mesmerized by the light reflected in his eyes. 'This is yours, isn’t it? You got it back from that Jedi lady.’

The Exile nodded at him more shyly than she intended.

Atton turned the saber off. 'Why would you give this to me?’

'My new lightsaber takes both hands. And you just said you wanted one,’ she awkwardly tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

'That’s not what I meant. I know how personal this is to you.’

'Exactly. I… I want to take care of you,’ Illa stepped closer to Atton. She reached behind his head, dug her fingers in his hair and kept playing with his dark strands. 'I want to be there for you. And if I cannot be then… at least I’d know you have this with you to take care of yourself.’

'Did you just propose in some weird Jedi way?’ The pilot teased.

'No. Or at least I don’t think I did…’ the Exile furrowed her brows as she considered the question. 'Unless you’d li-’

'I was joking,’ Atton interrupted her, laughing, then he leaned in for a kiss. Illa slid her hand down his chest and stopped right above his heart which was pounding just as hard and as fast as her own. 'You know I want the same thing, right?’ The scoundrel pulled away slightly.

'I know,’ the Exile answered and closed the gap between them again.

At that moment she was certain nothing could’ve made her feel more hopeful for the future.


	28. Chapter 28

It was probably the first time that Atton has seen the sun on Dxun. Ever since the Ebon Hawk landed, and the Exile along with Mandalore hurriedly took the team to the Mandalorian camp, it rained so hard, it almost felt like the moon felt the despair of the people on Onderon, and decided to harass the inhabitants of Dxun into helping. And now that they had a plan of attack, the first rays of the sun caressed the pilot’s face - but it still failed to truly reassure him.

Atton looked at the team he was about to lead into the jungle. Mira was squabbling with the quartermaster over some rocker components, while the Handmaiden watched younger Mandalorians training - the scoundrel could read her opinions from her face without her even saying a word. From a tactical perspective, he understood why he was appointed to lead the secondary team: he had the skills, the experience and the adaptability to pull off a mission based on little to no information that could help. He had the backing of the finest fighters the Mandalorians had to offer, and when it came down to it, Atton had to admit, that he, Mira and the Handmaiden made a decent team. Everything pointed to success and yet, the pilot’s thoughts kept drifting to the darkest corners of his mind, one filled with fear and guilt.

‘I’ll be right back,’ he called out to Mira, ‘I gotta take care of something.’

The Handmaiden shot him a suspicious glare, but before she could say anything, she heard the bounty hunter grumble under her breath.

‘Gotta get charged by your power coupling, I guess.’

‘What do you mean? He seems adequately energized,’ the Echani blinked at her, confused.

Mira gave her a pointed and slightly suggestive look. When the Handmaiden’s expression didn’t change, she turned back to Atton with a sigh. ‘You better get back quick or we’ll leave you here.’

'Whatever you say, your majesty.’ Atton’s voice rang with impatience and irritation. The bounty hunter made a face at him as a response. The scoundrel turned away from her but he made sure she saw him roll his eyes at her.

Atton made his way to the other end of the Mandalorian encampment, trying to figure out what to tell the Exile. He trusted her. She knew what she was doing, she knew how to take care of herself, and she had backup. And yet… The idea of being away from her as she faced… who knows what filled him with dread. If this was the time when his presence would have made a difference and he wasn’t there… He felt goosebumps forming on the back of his neck and he reached back to soothe his skin nervously. He didn’t realize how tense and sore his neck was.

Soon a massive hangar came into the pilot’s field of vision. The doors were open and what he saw within gave him pause - a Basilisk war droid, old but finely maintained. For a moment he was convinced he was dreaming but the moment was chased away by a familiar voice.

'Atton, look!’ Illa rushed to him, only slowing down to point to the hangar behind her. 'I’m going to fly a Basilisk!’

Atton didn’t answer, he just watched Illa close the distance between them. She smiled at him, and he immediately felt the whirlwind of his thoughts settle a bit but his heart… His heart was racing all the same.

'Don’t get jealous,’ she said when she got close enough to see the tension reflected on his face. She placed a hand on his arm to reassure him, drawing a rueful laugh out of him.

'How could I not? The one time, I could crash something without having to hear about it non-stop, and you have to snatch the moment from me.’

Illa let out a short laugh. 'I’m really sorry. Maybe you’ll get to pilot one next time.’

'Yeah, I…’ The scoundrel turned his gaze to the grass at his feet for a fleeting moment. 'I’d prefer to do it now.’

The Exile spent a while examining Atton’s features. He didn’t bother trying to hide anything from her this time. It felt easier than voicing his concerns. And all the other things he felt at that moment.

'Atton, what’s wr-’

'Just be careful, okay?’ He interjected before she could finish. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything else.

Illa gave him a tired but comforting smile. 'I’ll be fine,’ she said, then reached for something in her pocket. 'Look, I still have the healing packs you gave me on Nar Shaddaa.’

Atton chuckled. It felt like a ridiculous gesture looking back but the Exile didn’t stop there.

'And I’ll have your commlink. Hopefully, I’ll find some way to boost its range. And I got my pazaak deck right here,’ she tapped on her temple. Her face expressed gratitude and a tenderness that tugged at something deep within Atton’s soul. He watched her adoringly. In moments like these, he was convinced she was an angel.

'I wanna give you one more thing,’ he said as he stepped closer to her. Illa’s smile widened ever so slightly but it fed into his urge to kiss her beyond measure. Beyond resistance. It took him a moment to realize that he had closed to gap between them. It took him another moment to convince himself to pull away. 'Uh… I hope that wasn’t too-’

The Exile grabbed the pilot’s shirt, and pulled him back. Her lips moved slowly against his, urging him to kiss her back harder. He wrapped his arms around her back tightly, letting her warmth and presence ease his anxieties.

'For luck?’ Illa asked for what seemed like an eternity later. She let him rest his forehead against hers and her breath caressed him as she spoke.

'Yeah… For luck,’ Atton lied. He needed that kiss for something far more important: peace.


End file.
